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Plainsong #3
Benedizione
Nella cittadina di Holt, in Colorado, Dad Lewis affronta la sua ultima estate: la moglie Mary e la figlia Lorraine gli sono amorevolmente accanto, mentre gli amici si alternano nel dare omaggio a una figura rispettata della comunità. Ma nel passato di Dad si nascondono fantasmi: il figlio Frank, che è fuggito di casa per mai più tornare, e il commesso del negozio di ferramenta, che aveva tradito la sua fiducia. Nella casa accanto, una ragazzina orfana viene a vivere dalla nonna, e in paese arriva il reverendo Lyle, che predica con passione la verità e la non violenza e porta con sé un segreto. Nella piccola e solitaria comunità abituata a espellere da sé tutto ciò che non è conforme, Dad non sarà l'unico a dover fare i conti con la vera natura del rimpianto, della vergogna, della dignità e dell'amore.
Kent Haruf affronta i temi delle relazioni umane e delle scelte morali estreme con delicatezza, senza mai alzare la voce, intrattenendo una conversazione intima con il lettore che ha il tocco della poesia.
Kent Haruf affronta i temi delle relazioni umane e delle scelte morali estreme con delicatezza, senza mai alzare la voce, intrattenendo una conversazione intima con il lettore che ha il tocco della poesia.
277 pages, Paperback
First published February 26, 2013
839 people are currently reading
14124 people want to read
About the author
Kent Haruf
17 books1,972 followersKent Haruf was born in eastern Colorado. He received his Bachelors of Arts in literature from Nebraska Wesleyan University in 1965 and his Masters of Fine Arts from the Iowa Writers' Workshop at the University of Iowa in 1973. For two years, he taught English in Turkey with the Peace Corps and his other jobs have included a chicken farm in Colorado, a construction site in Wyoming, a rehabilitation hospital in Colorado, a hospital in Arizona, a library in Iowa, an alternative high school in Wisconsin, and universities in Nebraska and Illinois.
Haruf is the author of Plainsong, which received the Mountains and Plains Booksellers Award, the Los Angeles Times Book Prize, the Maria Thomas Award in Fiction, and The New Yorker Book Award. Plainsong was also a finalist for the 1999 National Book Award. His novel, The Tie That Binds, received a Whiting Foundation Award and a special citation from the Pen/Hemingway Foundation. In 2006, Haruf was awarded the Dos Passos Prize for Literature.
All of his novels are set in the fictional town of Holt, Colorado. Holt is loosely based on Yuma, Colorado, an early residence of Haruf in the 1980s.
Haruf lived with his wife, Cathy, in Salida, Colorado, with their three daughters. He died of cancer on November 30, 2014.
Haruf is the author of Plainsong, which received the Mountains and Plains Booksellers Award, the Los Angeles Times Book Prize, the Maria Thomas Award in Fiction, and The New Yorker Book Award. Plainsong was also a finalist for the 1999 National Book Award. His novel, The Tie That Binds, received a Whiting Foundation Award and a special citation from the Pen/Hemingway Foundation. In 2006, Haruf was awarded the Dos Passos Prize for Literature.
All of his novels are set in the fictional town of Holt, Colorado. Holt is loosely based on Yuma, Colorado, an early residence of Haruf in the 1980s.
Haruf lived with his wife, Cathy, in Salida, Colorado, with their three daughters. He died of cancer on November 30, 2014.
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June 12, 2025
Kent Haruf takes his time. His first novel, The Ties That Bind, was published in 1984, winning a Whiting Foundation Award and a Hemingway Foundation/PEN citation. His second novel, Where You Once Belonged was published in 1990. Plainsong, which became a best-seller and was a National Book Award finalist, was published in 1999. It's sequel, Eventide, was published in 2004. Nine years later we have Haruf's fifth novel, Benediction. All his novels are set in the fictional town of Holt, Colorado, (a stand-in for Yuma where Haruf once lived) nearer to Kansas and Nebraska than to that suspect center of the scary urban, Denver. Benediction is not a sequel, but a stand-alone, although there are a few nods to characters from prior tales. All Haruf's novels are top-notch, written at a very high plane of craft, observation and insight, and Benediction fits in very nicely with his existing, outstanding body of work.
Kent Haruf - Illustration by Jason Seller - image from the magazine 5280
Dad Lewis gets the bad news straight away, cancer, terminal. Get your affairs in order. Over the remaining few months of his life Dad (we never learn his proper first name) does just that. We visit with him as he tries to come to terms with his life, recalling how he came to be on his own as a teen, how he met the love of his life, how he treated those around him, his son, daughter, employees, neighbors. This being a Kent Haruf novel, it takes a village to tell a tale. Eight-year-old Alice has arrived next door, at her grandmother's, her father long gone and her mother recently deceased. How the people of Holt cope with her presence will feel very familiar for return readers of Haruf's work, but still both startling in some of the details and incredibly moving in its execution. Reverend Lyle, late of Denver, makes the crucial mistake of actually preaching the gospel, not what most of the parishioners want to hear. His wife and son wish he would keep such things to himself. Haruf was the son of a minister, and his depiction of the politics of town religious institutions has the ring of seen rather than revealed truth. There is an older mother-daughter pair who figure into the story, most particularly in a wonderful scene that is simultaneously baptismal and pagan, and a few more characters who matter beside. There are no saints here, no demons. (well, ok, a few very minor characters are purely awful) Forgiveness is a major element for many of the relationships here. It is tougher to create an image with fine lines than to paint with broad strokes. Haruf takes his time and makes his characters breathe.
All the lonely people. Where do they all come from? Holt apparently. There is enough quiet desperation in Holt that I was reminded at times of Edward Hopper's Nighthawks. Love does not seem to last often enough, but there are some exceptions that keep hope alive. We are invited to look at relationships between parents and children, between present, past, potential and real lovers, and between people and the places in which they live. Communities definitely affect one's options, for good and ill.
One might wonder how the author goes about constructing his novels. Fortunately he has told us
============================EXTRA STUFF
I found many interviews with the author, and have included links to a few here, in case you get the urge. The author quotes I used are from the first one listed.
Benediction was chosen as the #1 Indie Next List Pick for March 2013. Here is the interview from Bookselling This Week, a publication of the American Bookseller's Association, by Elizabeth Knapp
Other Haruf books I have reviewed:
-----2000 - Plainsong (Plainsong #1)
-----2005 - Eventide (Plainsong #2)
-----2015 - Our Souls at Night
From Telluride Inside and Out - interview by Mark Stephens
This Barnes and Noble profile was written by Christina Nunez
This interview is from November 2012, in Publishers Weekly on-line, by Claire Kirch
The book was published by Picador in the UK. On their site, there is a nice photo essay about what Haruf's landscape looks like, Benediction in Pictures
Also, it is worth your time to check out Michael Edwards' lovely review
P.S. - I suspect that Kent Haruf has a secret first name, Clark.
A stage adaptation of Benediction is planned to open in January, 2015 at the Denver Center for the Performing Arts
Kent Haruf - Illustration by Jason Seller - image from the magazine 5280
Dad Lewis gets the bad news straight away, cancer, terminal. Get your affairs in order. Over the remaining few months of his life Dad (we never learn his proper first name) does just that. We visit with him as he tries to come to terms with his life, recalling how he came to be on his own as a teen, how he met the love of his life, how he treated those around him, his son, daughter, employees, neighbors. This being a Kent Haruf novel, it takes a village to tell a tale. Eight-year-old Alice has arrived next door, at her grandmother's, her father long gone and her mother recently deceased. How the people of Holt cope with her presence will feel very familiar for return readers of Haruf's work, but still both startling in some of the details and incredibly moving in its execution. Reverend Lyle, late of Denver, makes the crucial mistake of actually preaching the gospel, not what most of the parishioners want to hear. His wife and son wish he would keep such things to himself. Haruf was the son of a minister, and his depiction of the politics of town religious institutions has the ring of seen rather than revealed truth. There is an older mother-daughter pair who figure into the story, most particularly in a wonderful scene that is simultaneously baptismal and pagan, and a few more characters who matter beside. There are no saints here, no demons. (well, ok, a few very minor characters are purely awful) Forgiveness is a major element for many of the relationships here. It is tougher to create an image with fine lines than to paint with broad strokes. Haruf takes his time and makes his characters breathe.
All the lonely people. Where do they all come from? Holt apparently. There is enough quiet desperation in Holt that I was reminded at times of Edward Hopper's Nighthawks. Love does not seem to last often enough, but there are some exceptions that keep hope alive. We are invited to look at relationships between parents and children, between present, past, potential and real lovers, and between people and the places in which they live. Communities definitely affect one's options, for good and ill.
One might wonder how the author goes about constructing his novels. Fortunately he has told us
When I think of a story, I always begin with the characters. I daydream and brood and imagine that character for nearly a year and, of course, they all have to have problems, so I think about their problems. Then I begin to imagine and daydream about the people that would be in their lives, and their problems. It’s my biggest effort to figure out how to bring them together in a way that would move the story forward — not necessarily predictably but certainly inevitably.The atmospherics of Holt figure significantly in how we are handled as readers. After Dad gets the news and returns home, the sun is down. An assault is accompanied by rain. A parent hitting a child is lit by The wind cried and whistled in the leafless trees. During a significant sermon, The sanctuary was hot. The windows were open but it was a hot day and hot inside. It gets hotter and you get the idea. The use of weather throughout is ever-present, but tempered, never intrusive, there to add a highlight, reinforce a mood, never to direct traffic. Characters relate a fair bit around food as well, feeding each other or not. The flatness of the terrain adds exposure. ...on the plains, everything is visible, nothing is isolated. That appeals to me a great deal, these people being so visible, as if they’re seen in a spotlight. There is a scene that grabbed me, in which a character is walking the town at night and is stopped by the police:
Is there something wrong with you? What are you doing out here?That passage seems to epitomize the writing and sensibility of Kent Haruf. His literary doppelganger, wandering through a town of people, seeing decency and finding meaning and joy in "this ordinary life." It’s not hard to say something nice about Benediction. Haruf writes of real human concerns, real human problems, engagingly and effectively. You will come to care about someone in Haruf's Holt, maybe more than one someone. Take your time with this one. Read it slowly. As we have come to expect, whenever Kent Haruf produces a new book, it is always a blessing.
I'm just walking. Having a look around town.
Your family knows where you are?
They know I'm taking a walk.
It doesn't bother you to look in other people's houses? You think that's all right.
I don't think I'm doing any harm. I didn't mean to.
Well, these people don't like it. This man called you in.
What did he say?
That you were looking in his house.
Did he say what he was doing in his house?
Why would he say that?
People in their houses at night. These ordinary lives. Passing without their knowing. I'd hoped to recapture something.
The officer stared at him.
The precious ordinary.
I don't know what you're talking about, but you'd better keep moving.
I thought I'd see people being hurtful. Cruel. A man hitting his wife. But I haven't seen that. Maybe all that's behind the curtains. If you're going to hit somebody maybe you pull the curtain first.
Not necessarily.
What I've seen is the sweet kindness of one person to another. Just time passing on a summer's night. This ordinary life.
============================EXTRA STUFF
I found many interviews with the author, and have included links to a few here, in case you get the urge. The author quotes I used are from the first one listed.
Benediction was chosen as the #1 Indie Next List Pick for March 2013. Here is the interview from Bookselling This Week, a publication of the American Bookseller's Association, by Elizabeth Knapp
Other Haruf books I have reviewed:
-----2000 - Plainsong (Plainsong #1)
-----2005 - Eventide (Plainsong #2)
-----2015 - Our Souls at Night
From Telluride Inside and Out - interview by Mark Stephens
This Barnes and Noble profile was written by Christina Nunez
This interview is from November 2012, in Publishers Weekly on-line, by Claire Kirch
The book was published by Picador in the UK. On their site, there is a nice photo essay about what Haruf's landscape looks like, Benediction in Pictures
Also, it is worth your time to check out Michael Edwards' lovely review
P.S. - I suspect that Kent Haruf has a secret first name, Clark.
A stage adaptation of Benediction is planned to open in January, 2015 at the Denver Center for the Performing Arts
November 24, 2022
AMERICAN GOTHIC
Colorado: il canto della pianura
Non credevo esistessero periodi adatti e periodi non adatti alla lettura di un libro.
Ho sempre pensato che l’Arte è preziosa anche quando parla di morte e di dolore, la Bellezza ha sempre un effetto tonificante, non esiste Bellezza deprimente. Non c’è Bellezza che possa fare male, mi sono sempre detto.
Mi sa che devo ricredermi.
Questo romanzo di Haruf è molto bello e contiene così tanta infelicità che in questo periodo della mia vita non riesco a sostenerla.
Non basta che sia bello: dopo 273 pagine di lacrime, sono stremato, non ce la faccio più, sono davvero troppe per uno come me che non ha nulla di Gary Cooper, the strong silent type
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4SQkL...
Colorado: maledizione
Haruf colpisce subito e ancora per la sua scrittura semplice, asciutta, essenziale, in grado di evocare la musica del silenzio senza sprecare un aggettivo o un complemento, che sembra centrare l’anima delle cose con la normalità del tono.
Una scrittura che trasmette rigore (morale), onestà, verità, autenticità, sincerità.
Una scrittura che sembra la più adatta ai suoi paesaggi geografici e umani fuori dal tempo (anche se questa volta è più facile individuare l’epoca del racconto): la pianura aperta, tanta e così vasta da apparire sconfinata, le lontane colline, spazio, cielo (il cielo sembra essere più incombente sopra un immenso spazio piano) – uomini che si sforzano di rispettare una legge morale anche quando non ci riescono, anche quando sono persone rette che sembrano non conoscere pietà come il protagonista Dad Lewis.
Colorado: la strada per Holt
Ritorna Holt, il paese immaginario del Colorado nel quale Haruf ambienta le sue storie.
E anche questa volta la narrazione gira intorno a una decina di personaggi, che tessono un racconto intriso di dolore, in un’America che sembra immutabile, sembra non cambiare mai.
Proprio come le pianure.
Epica del quotidiano, aggraziata ballata della semplicità, the precious ordinary.
In questo episodio della sua sciolta e slegata trilogia (sarei contento di capire perché la bella impresa editoriale di NN, casa editrice nata proprio con le traduzioni di Haruf, sia iniziata da questo romanzo, che viene considerato l’ultimo della cosiddetta trilogia, invece che dal primo, peraltro già edito in Italia da Rizzoli nel 2003: solo perché era il più recente in ordine di pubblicazione? Sarebbe una spiegazione un po’ deludente), Haruf ricorre al dialogo molto più che in Plainsong, il capitolo iniziale.
Vilhelm Hammershøi: Interno con Ida su una sedia bianca, 1900
Io sono rimasto un po’ spiazzato: perché non ero pronto, perché mi è sembrato tanto, perfino troppo, perché qui e là mi è suonato più artefatto delle sue descrizioni in prosa che conosco.
Ciò nonostante, nonostante il così massiccio ricorso al dialogo, ho parlato prima di musica del silenzio: che mi sembra forse essere il cuore dell’arte di Haruf, la sua essenza.
Altro elemento che mi ha fatto preferire Plainsong è che qui i personaggi appaiono più sopravvivere che vivere, gente che tira avanti, gente per cui il futuro non è più di moda, gente che vivrebbe la felicità come una colpa, gente dallo sguardo basso, come se l’orizzonte incombesse e fosse troppo vasto (ancora una volta la pianura?).
Vilhelm Hammershøi: Quattro stanze, 1914, Ordrupgaard Museum di Jægersborg Dyrehave, Copenhagen
Gente che dice:
Dopo un po’ dimentichi. Inizi a far caso ai tuoi acciacchi e ai tuoi mali. Pensi a una protesi all’anca. La vista si indebolisce. Inizi a pensare alla morte. La vita si fa più limitata. Smetti di preoccuparti del mese che viene. Speri di non tirare avanti troppo a lungo.
Oppure dice:
Tutta la vita trascorre nell’infelicità per un motivo o per l’altro, no?
Non so. Un tempo non la pensavo così.
Però c’è anche del buono, disse Willa. Ci tengo a sottolinearlo.
Ci sono brevi momenti, disse Alene. Questo è uno.
Gente che rifiuta i diversi di ogni genere, siano essi gli adolescenti inquieti, gli omosessuali, i ladri per necessità, i reverendi esiliati.
Vite ordinarie, vite insignificanti, piene di ferite, cicatrici, perdite, morti, alle quali Haruf regala dignità letteraria e posto nella memoria.
Andrew Wieth: Marsh Hawk, 1964.
Sin dal titolo in Benedizione è più marcato una spiritualità che non esito a definire sentimento religioso: ho notato più forte la mano e il cuore del figlio di un pastore, quale Haruf era.
Non certo solo perché uno dei personaggi principali, forse il più vitale, è un reverendo.
È proprio il romanzo intero a essere immerso in un’aurea che a me rimanda alla fede.
Questi personaggi sembrano quasi tutti portare il peso di una colpa, che mi viene da pensare sia quella connessa al peccato originale – sembrano esseri umani che chiedono scusa di esistere.
La mia sensazione è che Haruf fosse già ammalato e sentisse la sua fine avvicinarsi.
Un'opera comunque magnifica, che sento partecipe del cuore pulsante della cultura americana (US), classica anche se contemporanea.
Andrew Wyeth, pittore del silenzio: Turkey Pond, 1944.
Anziana coppia di protagonisti, da sempre legati in matrimonio, molto innamorati, lui è malato terminale di cancro, gli resta un mese di vita. La figlia è tornata a vivere in famiglia per le ultime settimane di vita del padre, ma forse resterà per sempre per farsi carico dell’attività paterna, il negozio di ferramenta del paese. Ha un amore, non ricordo chi dove e perché. Ha perso una figlia investita da un’auto. L’uomo ha scheletri nell’armadio: ha beccato un suo dipendente a rubare incasso, lo ha licenziato e costretto a lasciare il paese, quello si è suicidato – il figlio se ne è andato di casa molto appena finite le scuole perché suo padre non accettava la sua omosessualità.
Una donna anziana vedova da trent’anni (decisamente troppi) che vive con la figlia il cui unico amore era un uomo sposato, padre di famiglia, che la lasciò dall’oggi al domani senza una parola. La donna insegnava, ora non più.
Un’anziana rimasta vedova da una vita, ha perso la figlia, vive con la nipotina di otto anni.
No, non è un quadro di Andrew Wyeth, ma un fotogramma dal capolavoro di Terrence Malick “Days of Heaven”, del 1978, col quale vinse l’Oscar per la miglior fotografia e il premio per la miglior regia a Cannes.
Colorado: il canto della pianura
Non credevo esistessero periodi adatti e periodi non adatti alla lettura di un libro.
Ho sempre pensato che l’Arte è preziosa anche quando parla di morte e di dolore, la Bellezza ha sempre un effetto tonificante, non esiste Bellezza deprimente. Non c’è Bellezza che possa fare male, mi sono sempre detto.
Mi sa che devo ricredermi.
Questo romanzo di Haruf è molto bello e contiene così tanta infelicità che in questo periodo della mia vita non riesco a sostenerla.
Non basta che sia bello: dopo 273 pagine di lacrime, sono stremato, non ce la faccio più, sono davvero troppe per uno come me che non ha nulla di Gary Cooper, the strong silent type
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4SQkL...
Colorado: maledizione
Haruf colpisce subito e ancora per la sua scrittura semplice, asciutta, essenziale, in grado di evocare la musica del silenzio senza sprecare un aggettivo o un complemento, che sembra centrare l’anima delle cose con la normalità del tono.
Una scrittura che trasmette rigore (morale), onestà, verità, autenticità, sincerità.
Una scrittura che sembra la più adatta ai suoi paesaggi geografici e umani fuori dal tempo (anche se questa volta è più facile individuare l’epoca del racconto): la pianura aperta, tanta e così vasta da apparire sconfinata, le lontane colline, spazio, cielo (il cielo sembra essere più incombente sopra un immenso spazio piano) – uomini che si sforzano di rispettare una legge morale anche quando non ci riescono, anche quando sono persone rette che sembrano non conoscere pietà come il protagonista Dad Lewis.
Colorado: la strada per Holt
Ritorna Holt, il paese immaginario del Colorado nel quale Haruf ambienta le sue storie.
E anche questa volta la narrazione gira intorno a una decina di personaggi, che tessono un racconto intriso di dolore, in un’America che sembra immutabile, sembra non cambiare mai.
Proprio come le pianure.
Epica del quotidiano, aggraziata ballata della semplicità, the precious ordinary.
In questo episodio della sua sciolta e slegata trilogia (sarei contento di capire perché la bella impresa editoriale di NN, casa editrice nata proprio con le traduzioni di Haruf, sia iniziata da questo romanzo, che viene considerato l’ultimo della cosiddetta trilogia, invece che dal primo, peraltro già edito in Italia da Rizzoli nel 2003: solo perché era il più recente in ordine di pubblicazione? Sarebbe una spiegazione un po’ deludente), Haruf ricorre al dialogo molto più che in Plainsong, il capitolo iniziale.
Vilhelm Hammershøi: Interno con Ida su una sedia bianca, 1900
Io sono rimasto un po’ spiazzato: perché non ero pronto, perché mi è sembrato tanto, perfino troppo, perché qui e là mi è suonato più artefatto delle sue descrizioni in prosa che conosco.
Ciò nonostante, nonostante il così massiccio ricorso al dialogo, ho parlato prima di musica del silenzio: che mi sembra forse essere il cuore dell’arte di Haruf, la sua essenza.
Altro elemento che mi ha fatto preferire Plainsong è che qui i personaggi appaiono più sopravvivere che vivere, gente che tira avanti, gente per cui il futuro non è più di moda, gente che vivrebbe la felicità come una colpa, gente dallo sguardo basso, come se l’orizzonte incombesse e fosse troppo vasto (ancora una volta la pianura?).
Vilhelm Hammershøi: Quattro stanze, 1914, Ordrupgaard Museum di Jægersborg Dyrehave, Copenhagen
Gente che dice:
Dopo un po’ dimentichi. Inizi a far caso ai tuoi acciacchi e ai tuoi mali. Pensi a una protesi all’anca. La vista si indebolisce. Inizi a pensare alla morte. La vita si fa più limitata. Smetti di preoccuparti del mese che viene. Speri di non tirare avanti troppo a lungo.
Oppure dice:
Tutta la vita trascorre nell’infelicità per un motivo o per l’altro, no?
Non so. Un tempo non la pensavo così.
Però c’è anche del buono, disse Willa. Ci tengo a sottolinearlo.
Ci sono brevi momenti, disse Alene. Questo è uno.
Gente che rifiuta i diversi di ogni genere, siano essi gli adolescenti inquieti, gli omosessuali, i ladri per necessità, i reverendi esiliati.
Vite ordinarie, vite insignificanti, piene di ferite, cicatrici, perdite, morti, alle quali Haruf regala dignità letteraria e posto nella memoria.
Andrew Wieth: Marsh Hawk, 1964.
Sin dal titolo in Benedizione è più marcato una spiritualità che non esito a definire sentimento religioso: ho notato più forte la mano e il cuore del figlio di un pastore, quale Haruf era.
Non certo solo perché uno dei personaggi principali, forse il più vitale, è un reverendo.
È proprio il romanzo intero a essere immerso in un’aurea che a me rimanda alla fede.
Questi personaggi sembrano quasi tutti portare il peso di una colpa, che mi viene da pensare sia quella connessa al peccato originale – sembrano esseri umani che chiedono scusa di esistere.
La mia sensazione è che Haruf fosse già ammalato e sentisse la sua fine avvicinarsi.
Un'opera comunque magnifica, che sento partecipe del cuore pulsante della cultura americana (US), classica anche se contemporanea.
Andrew Wyeth, pittore del silenzio: Turkey Pond, 1944.
Anziana coppia di protagonisti, da sempre legati in matrimonio, molto innamorati, lui è malato terminale di cancro, gli resta un mese di vita. La figlia è tornata a vivere in famiglia per le ultime settimane di vita del padre, ma forse resterà per sempre per farsi carico dell’attività paterna, il negozio di ferramenta del paese. Ha un amore, non ricordo chi dove e perché. Ha perso una figlia investita da un’auto. L’uomo ha scheletri nell’armadio: ha beccato un suo dipendente a rubare incasso, lo ha licenziato e costretto a lasciare il paese, quello si è suicidato – il figlio se ne è andato di casa molto appena finite le scuole perché suo padre non accettava la sua omosessualità.
Una donna anziana vedova da trent’anni (decisamente troppi) che vive con la figlia il cui unico amore era un uomo sposato, padre di famiglia, che la lasciò dall’oggi al domani senza una parola. La donna insegnava, ora non più.
Un’anziana rimasta vedova da una vita, ha perso la figlia, vive con la nipotina di otto anni.
No, non è un quadro di Andrew Wyeth, ma un fotogramma dal capolavoro di Terrence Malick “Days of Heaven”, del 1978, col quale vinse l’Oscar per la miglior fotografia e il premio per la miglior regia a Cannes.
January 8, 2024
“The precious ordinary… What I’ve seen is the sweet kindness of one person to another. Just time passing on a summer’s night. This ordinary life.”
I absolutely love Kent Haruf’s writing. The first two books in this trilogy, Plainsong and Eventide, are two of my very favorite books. If I could special order one of the McPheron brothers for my very own, I would! They saved me during the pandemic, and I could sure use their wisdom and gentle, unassuming natures even now. Those guys don’t show up here in this book, however; but I knew that going into it.
“People make things unhappy… All life is moving through some kind of unhappiness, isn’t it.”
I’m not going to lie – this was the most depressing book of the series, in my opinion. Not only because right from the start we learn Dad Lewis is diagnosed with terminal cancer and “would be dead before the end of summer”. In the other books, I saw glimmers of hope, promises of futures that might bring some sort of happiness. Here, not so much. Too many characters seemed resigned to their fates. Maybe it’s best if I share an example of a conversation between an elderly woman and her sixty-something daughter to illustrate my point:
“I don’t put anything out anymore for anyone to sense… I mean that quality, that condition of being alive and interested and vital and active and passionate in my life. Oh I hate this. I’m going to die and not even have lived yet. It’s so ridiculous. It’s absurd. It’s all so pointless.” - daughter
“You’ll get better, dear… You forget after a while. You start paying attention to your aches and pains. You think about a hip replacement. Your eyes fail you. You start thinking about death. You live more narrowly. You stop thinking about next month. You hope you don’t have to linger.” - mother
I’m not going to say anything more about that except it threw me into a complete funk. Now you’re probably thinking I hated this book. I didn’t. The thing is, life can be that way, can’t it? Everything about this is so very real. I just don’t want it to be. But that’s no reason to say this isn’t a well-crafted, beautiful, meaningful piece of writing. It’s all of those things and more. Dad Lewis isn’t a perfect man by any means. Who is? He is loaded with regrets and naturally end of life is the time these come to the surface. He’s been estranged from his son, and while the family gathers to spend his last days with him, much talk revolves around what led to this division. There are other events and people he remembers; he worries whether he’s done right by these others. His daughter Lorraine is present by the bedside. A young girl staying next door with her grandmother brings to mind the time he may have missed with his daughter in the early days.
I don’t want heaps of regrets, particularly when it comes to those that mean something to me. Reaching out to others, making the time and effort and spending precious moments with others – I never want to say, crap, I never did that when I could have and now it’s too late. I don’t want to think, damn, I should have treated that person more kindly. I want to consider these things right now, in the moment. But I digress from the book…
Anyone that has read Haruf’s work will know the town of Holt, Colorado. You will know that the people live mainly quiet lives. There are outsiders and those that don’t conform. There are people doing things for another that make a world of difference to both those giving and receiving. Sometimes being allowed to give is a gift itself. In my review of Eventide, I likened these seemingly small gestures to life rafts. You’ll find them again here. They’ll make you smile and they’ll make you cry. I just hope some of them went on to find some true happiness before the twilight of their years. This book made me angry for the simple truths it reveals. Read this when you’re ready for your heart to be trampled to bits.
“Not many have had what you’ve had. Or we don’t recognize it. Most of us just settle for some imitation of it so we don’t have to live alone.”
I absolutely love Kent Haruf’s writing. The first two books in this trilogy, Plainsong and Eventide, are two of my very favorite books. If I could special order one of the McPheron brothers for my very own, I would! They saved me during the pandemic, and I could sure use their wisdom and gentle, unassuming natures even now. Those guys don’t show up here in this book, however; but I knew that going into it.
“People make things unhappy… All life is moving through some kind of unhappiness, isn’t it.”
I’m not going to lie – this was the most depressing book of the series, in my opinion. Not only because right from the start we learn Dad Lewis is diagnosed with terminal cancer and “would be dead before the end of summer”. In the other books, I saw glimmers of hope, promises of futures that might bring some sort of happiness. Here, not so much. Too many characters seemed resigned to their fates. Maybe it’s best if I share an example of a conversation between an elderly woman and her sixty-something daughter to illustrate my point:
“I don’t put anything out anymore for anyone to sense… I mean that quality, that condition of being alive and interested and vital and active and passionate in my life. Oh I hate this. I’m going to die and not even have lived yet. It’s so ridiculous. It’s absurd. It’s all so pointless.” - daughter
“You’ll get better, dear… You forget after a while. You start paying attention to your aches and pains. You think about a hip replacement. Your eyes fail you. You start thinking about death. You live more narrowly. You stop thinking about next month. You hope you don’t have to linger.” - mother
I’m not going to say anything more about that except it threw me into a complete funk. Now you’re probably thinking I hated this book. I didn’t. The thing is, life can be that way, can’t it? Everything about this is so very real. I just don’t want it to be. But that’s no reason to say this isn’t a well-crafted, beautiful, meaningful piece of writing. It’s all of those things and more. Dad Lewis isn’t a perfect man by any means. Who is? He is loaded with regrets and naturally end of life is the time these come to the surface. He’s been estranged from his son, and while the family gathers to spend his last days with him, much talk revolves around what led to this division. There are other events and people he remembers; he worries whether he’s done right by these others. His daughter Lorraine is present by the bedside. A young girl staying next door with her grandmother brings to mind the time he may have missed with his daughter in the early days.
I don’t want heaps of regrets, particularly when it comes to those that mean something to me. Reaching out to others, making the time and effort and spending precious moments with others – I never want to say, crap, I never did that when I could have and now it’s too late. I don’t want to think, damn, I should have treated that person more kindly. I want to consider these things right now, in the moment. But I digress from the book…
Anyone that has read Haruf’s work will know the town of Holt, Colorado. You will know that the people live mainly quiet lives. There are outsiders and those that don’t conform. There are people doing things for another that make a world of difference to both those giving and receiving. Sometimes being allowed to give is a gift itself. In my review of Eventide, I likened these seemingly small gestures to life rafts. You’ll find them again here. They’ll make you smile and they’ll make you cry. I just hope some of them went on to find some true happiness before the twilight of their years. This book made me angry for the simple truths it reveals. Read this when you’re ready for your heart to be trampled to bits.
“Not many have had what you’ve had. Or we don’t recognize it. Most of us just settle for some imitation of it so we don’t have to live alone.”
October 22, 2017
What is it that really matters when the light of our lives gradually fades out to complete and utter darkness? When we face loss and inevitable extinguishment?
Using the fictional town of Holt in the high plains of Colorado as a setting, Kent Haruf builds a finely threaded fabric of stories that place emphasis on the courage and the compassion of ordinary people when confronted with everyday tragedies of daily life.
An old man is diagnosed with terminal cancer and is forced to face certain aspects of his past that have haunted him for years before he is ready to exit this world.
An orphaned girl moves in with her grandmother and her sole presence, totally unbeknown to her, sheds light into the lives of two childless women in this small community.
The town’s newly arrived preacher struggles to mend the strained relationship with his wife and teenaged son without giving up his principles, which costs him the respect of the conservative cluster in his congregation.
An ex-teacher past her prime regrets having wasted her youth on a love affair that was doomed from the start and instead of allowing her grief to turn bitter, she decides to spread her bountiful love among friends and neighbors.
All the characters come together in their particular quest to overcome loss and fear only to discover that they are not alone, that the generosity of those who live next door might be the lantern they need to navigate the obscure uncertainties that momentarily fog their path.
Nevertheless, as much as I basked in the paused pace of the narration, it’s not the alternating plotlines that marked the difference in this book. What I found most disarming is the sober finesse of Kent Haruf’s approach. With a style completely bare of flourishes and uncomplicated dialogues without transition that naturally blend with the unpretentious voice of the narrator, Haruf captivates the reader by presenting depth with plain simplicity. The concision of his words can only be reached through years of close observation and accumulated wisdom and experience. The intimacy that is dispelled from the stark prose is restrained but so meaningful, so moving, that it demands taking breaks from reading to fully absorb the intensity of the feelings of these almost flesh and blood characters as if they were our own.
Haruf manages the ultimate goal in this small gem of a book; to capture the quintessence of all the stages of life, including death, as well as the hopes and fears, dreams and disillusionments, light and darkness, heartache and immense love that sustain his characters, that sustain all of us along the way. With unmatched humility, grace and an insightful glance that overflows with humanity, Haruf utters a blessing so that we don’t lose our sense of direction in the treacherous maze of routine, dissatisfaction and mediocrity and he reminds us of the few truly precious things that should rule our lives. Listen to his whisper, ablaze with love and empathy, and reconcile yourself with whatever lays ahead, knowing that you can meet it with a full blessing in your lips. It's possible; I have witnessed it. And I am blessed to be a witness.
Using the fictional town of Holt in the high plains of Colorado as a setting, Kent Haruf builds a finely threaded fabric of stories that place emphasis on the courage and the compassion of ordinary people when confronted with everyday tragedies of daily life.
An old man is diagnosed with terminal cancer and is forced to face certain aspects of his past that have haunted him for years before he is ready to exit this world.
An orphaned girl moves in with her grandmother and her sole presence, totally unbeknown to her, sheds light into the lives of two childless women in this small community.
The town’s newly arrived preacher struggles to mend the strained relationship with his wife and teenaged son without giving up his principles, which costs him the respect of the conservative cluster in his congregation.
An ex-teacher past her prime regrets having wasted her youth on a love affair that was doomed from the start and instead of allowing her grief to turn bitter, she decides to spread her bountiful love among friends and neighbors.
All the characters come together in their particular quest to overcome loss and fear only to discover that they are not alone, that the generosity of those who live next door might be the lantern they need to navigate the obscure uncertainties that momentarily fog their path.
Nevertheless, as much as I basked in the paused pace of the narration, it’s not the alternating plotlines that marked the difference in this book. What I found most disarming is the sober finesse of Kent Haruf’s approach. With a style completely bare of flourishes and uncomplicated dialogues without transition that naturally blend with the unpretentious voice of the narrator, Haruf captivates the reader by presenting depth with plain simplicity. The concision of his words can only be reached through years of close observation and accumulated wisdom and experience. The intimacy that is dispelled from the stark prose is restrained but so meaningful, so moving, that it demands taking breaks from reading to fully absorb the intensity of the feelings of these almost flesh and blood characters as if they were our own.
Haruf manages the ultimate goal in this small gem of a book; to capture the quintessence of all the stages of life, including death, as well as the hopes and fears, dreams and disillusionments, light and darkness, heartache and immense love that sustain his characters, that sustain all of us along the way. With unmatched humility, grace and an insightful glance that overflows with humanity, Haruf utters a blessing so that we don’t lose our sense of direction in the treacherous maze of routine, dissatisfaction and mediocrity and he reminds us of the few truly precious things that should rule our lives. Listen to his whisper, ablaze with love and empathy, and reconcile yourself with whatever lays ahead, knowing that you can meet it with a full blessing in your lips. It's possible; I have witnessed it. And I am blessed to be a witness.
August 18, 2018
Lost, Estranged, Adopted, Reconciled?
“You don’t get over it… when a child goes. You never do.”
The greatest pain is not from one’s own inevitable death, or even the loss of a beloved partner (both of which feature), but from separation of children and parents.
Most of these characters are coping with such loss, whether through death, estrangement, or missing the opportunity to have a child. A few regain or attain some sort of parent/child relationship. Generally mothers and daughters fare better than fathers and sons. Nevertheless, this is primarily a story of coming to terms with loss. Loss balanced by kindness.
There’s only one actual child: 8-year old Alice, who lives next door to the Lewises, with her grandmother, Berta May. She is loved and raised by several elderly and middle-aged women.
“But Grandma I don’t need new clothes.
Yes, but they need to give you some…
You said it was better to give than receive…
You’re giving by letting them.”
Love in Action, Not Love Inaction
What is love if it remains private and theoretical?
This is not a sentimental book, but its firmest message is of practical love entwined with acceptance and forgiveness.
There is the lifelong love, devotion, and endurance of wife and daughter. They care for their dying husband/father at home, easing the pain of his imminent passing. Not shying from intimate ablutions, or wincing at his weakening limbs, papery skin, and the lengthening gaps between rattly breaths, as his body slowly decays.
There is also a teenager shedding blood to defend their first love, but really needing rescue themself.
It’s perfectly balanced between quiet tragedy, bravely born, and selfless love and generosity. There is heartbreak for individuals, but hope for family, community, humanity.
Love Thine Enemy
“It’s always this way in time of war, Willa said… This mix of nationalism and hate.”
Rev Lyle shocks many in his congregation by insisting that Jesus’ exhortation to love thine enemies is not a metaphor. It’s literal - even applying to terrorists.
He walks the streets to observe “the precious ordinary”, expecting to see people being hurtful, but is thrilled by the repeated “sweet kindness of one person to another”. Separately, there’s a charming scene where a gas station attendant is immensely helpful to Mary (old and lost), and she finds a way to reciprocate.
People’s everyday kindness, and Lyle’s conviction that it’s better to suffer the painful consequences of love than never to have loved, provide the hope of the story.
Spoiler-Free Sections, hidden for easier scrolling
Click this single spoiler tag to read sections titled: It’s Personal, Plot, Last Rites - A Benediction?, and Progressive Disclosure. Click here:
Language and Quotes
There are strings of short, simple sentences, with short, simple words. They could almost be from a Janet and John reading primer. It might be described as plodding. It should be banal, but isn’t. Somehow it works. Even the minimal punctuation fits so well that I really only noticed it when copying quotes.
Plain language powerfully evokes the small town on the plains. A sparse style with no room for sentimentality. It is especially effective in describing the landscape and the texture and sensations of a failing body.
But lines plucked from the page and quoted alone, don’t do it justice. The effect is cumulative. Hence, the fact I include only a few quotes does not reflect the high quality of the writing. It is an example of the “the precious ordinary” that Rev Lyle admires.
• “Grandma has lots of friends… But she doesn’t do anything with them.”
• “His chest was white and bony and almost hairless, his ribs jutted out.”
• “I’ve learned not to think about it. You have to… It gets better… You forget after a while… You live more narrowly.” That’s intended as helpful and sympathetic advice on coping with loneliness!
• “The dust boiling up behind them on the country roads.”
• “You’re lucky. Not many have had what you’ve had. Or we don’t recognise it. Most of us just settle for some imitation of it so we don’t have to live alone.”
• “She was marked and known. It was how you paid for love. But over time that was lost too. She became part of the history of the town, like wallpaper in the old houses… living out her days among other people’s children.”
A Standalone Novel, Not Plainsong #3
Despite GR labelling, this is not part of a trilogy. All Haruf’s novels are set in the small fictional town of Holt, 2.5 hours from Denver, with “blue sandhills in the hazy distance”. There are some common themes (fractured or forged relationships between parents and children, for example). The only specific link is a brief and trivial mention of the McPheron brothers, and Victoria, the central characters of Plainsong/Eventide.
See my reviews of Plainsong #1 and Eventide (Plainsong #2):
• Plainsong 5*
• Eventide 5*
One or two characters were briefly important, but not mentioned again. I wonder if they feature more strongly in other Haruf books. Lovestruck Laurie Wheeler and Ronnie Walker, for instance, and old Rose Tyler, who never got over the loss of an unspecified male (husband, son?). The answer is to read more Haruf. I look forward to it.
“You don’t get over it… when a child goes. You never do.”
The greatest pain is not from one’s own inevitable death, or even the loss of a beloved partner (both of which feature), but from separation of children and parents.
Most of these characters are coping with such loss, whether through death, estrangement, or missing the opportunity to have a child. A few regain or attain some sort of parent/child relationship. Generally mothers and daughters fare better than fathers and sons. Nevertheless, this is primarily a story of coming to terms with loss. Loss balanced by kindness.
There’s only one actual child: 8-year old Alice, who lives next door to the Lewises, with her grandmother, Berta May. She is loved and raised by several elderly and middle-aged women.
“But Grandma I don’t need new clothes.
Yes, but they need to give you some…
You said it was better to give than receive…
You’re giving by letting them.”
Love in Action, Not Love Inaction
What is love if it remains private and theoretical?
This is not a sentimental book, but its firmest message is of practical love entwined with acceptance and forgiveness.
There is the lifelong love, devotion, and endurance of wife and daughter. They care for their dying husband/father at home, easing the pain of his imminent passing. Not shying from intimate ablutions, or wincing at his weakening limbs, papery skin, and the lengthening gaps between rattly breaths, as his body slowly decays.
There is also a teenager shedding blood to defend their first love, but really needing rescue themself.
It’s perfectly balanced between quiet tragedy, bravely born, and selfless love and generosity. There is heartbreak for individuals, but hope for family, community, humanity.
Love Thine Enemy
“It’s always this way in time of war, Willa said… This mix of nationalism and hate.”
Rev Lyle shocks many in his congregation by insisting that Jesus’ exhortation to love thine enemies is not a metaphor. It’s literal - even applying to terrorists.
He walks the streets to observe “the precious ordinary”, expecting to see people being hurtful, but is thrilled by the repeated “sweet kindness of one person to another”. Separately, there’s a charming scene where a gas station attendant is immensely helpful to Mary (old and lost), and she finds a way to reciprocate.
People’s everyday kindness, and Lyle’s conviction that it’s better to suffer the painful consequences of love than never to have loved, provide the hope of the story.
Spoiler-Free Sections, hidden for easier scrolling
Click this single spoiler tag to read sections titled: It’s Personal, Plot, Last Rites - A Benediction?, and Progressive Disclosure. Click here:
Language and Quotes
There are strings of short, simple sentences, with short, simple words. They could almost be from a Janet and John reading primer. It might be described as plodding. It should be banal, but isn’t. Somehow it works. Even the minimal punctuation fits so well that I really only noticed it when copying quotes.
Plain language powerfully evokes the small town on the plains. A sparse style with no room for sentimentality. It is especially effective in describing the landscape and the texture and sensations of a failing body.
But lines plucked from the page and quoted alone, don’t do it justice. The effect is cumulative. Hence, the fact I include only a few quotes does not reflect the high quality of the writing. It is an example of the “the precious ordinary” that Rev Lyle admires.
• “Grandma has lots of friends… But she doesn’t do anything with them.”
• “His chest was white and bony and almost hairless, his ribs jutted out.”
• “I’ve learned not to think about it. You have to… It gets better… You forget after a while… You live more narrowly.” That’s intended as helpful and sympathetic advice on coping with loneliness!
• “The dust boiling up behind them on the country roads.”
• “You’re lucky. Not many have had what you’ve had. Or we don’t recognise it. Most of us just settle for some imitation of it so we don’t have to live alone.”
• “She was marked and known. It was how you paid for love. But over time that was lost too. She became part of the history of the town, like wallpaper in the old houses… living out her days among other people’s children.”
A Standalone Novel, Not Plainsong #3
Despite GR labelling, this is not part of a trilogy. All Haruf’s novels are set in the small fictional town of Holt, 2.5 hours from Denver, with “blue sandhills in the hazy distance”. There are some common themes (fractured or forged relationships between parents and children, for example). The only specific link is a brief and trivial mention of the McPheron brothers, and Victoria, the central characters of Plainsong/Eventide.
See my reviews of Plainsong #1 and Eventide (Plainsong #2):
• Plainsong 5*
• Eventide 5*
One or two characters were briefly important, but not mentioned again. I wonder if they feature more strongly in other Haruf books. Lovestruck Laurie Wheeler and Ronnie Walker, for instance, and old Rose Tyler, who never got over the loss of an unspecified male (husband, son?). The answer is to read more Haruf. I look forward to it.
December 4, 2013
When stopped one night on a dark outside street, a character in Haruf's haunting, beautiful novel is asked: "What are you doing out here?" And he replies, after some confusion about what it is he's doing, that he is simply looking at "The precious ordinary."
This moment lept out to me as the heart of this novel, as its entire message distilled down to one simple line. The precious ordinary. This is what Haruf writes. In all his novels he shines his own brand of lamplight on the beautiful edges of the average life. One of my students once asked me why Haruf is one of my favorite authors, why I've read all of his novels with such devotion, because, he said, "Nothing much happens in them." I told him I disagreed. Everything happens in them - he's like Richard Russo in the way he's able to capture how wide and challenging and full of heartbreak a normal life is...how each specific life is shaped by sadness and joy and love and loss.
Benediction is a triumph of the precious ordinary. A blessing, indeed.
This moment lept out to me as the heart of this novel, as its entire message distilled down to one simple line. The precious ordinary. This is what Haruf writes. In all his novels he shines his own brand of lamplight on the beautiful edges of the average life. One of my students once asked me why Haruf is one of my favorite authors, why I've read all of his novels with such devotion, because, he said, "Nothing much happens in them." I told him I disagreed. Everything happens in them - he's like Richard Russo in the way he's able to capture how wide and challenging and full of heartbreak a normal life is...how each specific life is shaped by sadness and joy and love and loss.
Benediction is a triumph of the precious ordinary. A blessing, indeed.
March 15, 2017
Life and death. Simply and beautifully penned. May you rest in peace, Mr. Haruf. We've loved your stories well.
The wind still blows. That doesn't change.
The wind still blows. That doesn't change.
March 19, 2013
Benediction is a pensive novel about the dailiness of life in a small town, the neighborly kindnesses as well as the regrets and missed chances that haunt its residents. At times it's more a lament than a benediction.
"Dad" Lewis is the central character. He only has a few weeks left to live. Knowing this makes him treasure events and places that once seemed ordinary and unspecial. As his life draws to a close, he allows himself to revert to a childlike authenticity. He finally tells people what he really thinks of them, and he gives in to emotions we learn to suppress and deny as we grow into adulthood. He lets himself weep as he contemplates the loss of life's most basic contentments -- the rhythms of our days that seem commonplace, but become dear as the end approaches.
This is not a novel you read for plot. There's not much action or conflict or conquest. I enjoyed it for the simple genius of the writing and the author's ability to excavate the human heart and mind. The approach is somewhat similar to Sherwood Anderson's Winesburg Ohio, although Haruf's prose is more restrained and pleasurable to read. Both books examine the secret longings and regrets of small-town folk, and the narrowing of opportunities imposed by small-town attitudes.
I recommend Benediction for readers seeking the most realistic fiction you're likely to find. Kent Haruf is peerless in his ability to observe the poignancy and pathos of human experience and commit it to paper in its barest essence.
NOTE: Kent Haruf does not use quotation marks in his dialogue. Usually this is something that would bother me quite a bit. However, Haruf's style is so clean and simple that it wasn't a problem for me with this particular book.
"Dad" Lewis is the central character. He only has a few weeks left to live. Knowing this makes him treasure events and places that once seemed ordinary and unspecial. As his life draws to a close, he allows himself to revert to a childlike authenticity. He finally tells people what he really thinks of them, and he gives in to emotions we learn to suppress and deny as we grow into adulthood. He lets himself weep as he contemplates the loss of life's most basic contentments -- the rhythms of our days that seem commonplace, but become dear as the end approaches.
This is not a novel you read for plot. There's not much action or conflict or conquest. I enjoyed it for the simple genius of the writing and the author's ability to excavate the human heart and mind. The approach is somewhat similar to Sherwood Anderson's Winesburg Ohio, although Haruf's prose is more restrained and pleasurable to read. Both books examine the secret longings and regrets of small-town folk, and the narrowing of opportunities imposed by small-town attitudes.
I recommend Benediction for readers seeking the most realistic fiction you're likely to find. Kent Haruf is peerless in his ability to observe the poignancy and pathos of human experience and commit it to paper in its barest essence.
NOTE: Kent Haruf does not use quotation marks in his dialogue. Usually this is something that would bother me quite a bit. However, Haruf's style is so clean and simple that it wasn't a problem for me with this particular book.
May 20, 2023
“Don’t stop. You’re doing fine.”
While still in the first chapter of this book I had to put it down and step away for a bit. Mr. Haruf was terrifyingly good in his ability to capture the emotional truth of a moment. By page 13 I had had tears in my eyes numerous times already. I don’t often cry while reading, but Haruf moves me like few other writers that I have encountered. The reason for the tears, which happened often while reading BENEDICTION, is because it captures with heartbreaking accuracy moments that we have all lived.
One of the things I most loved about this book is that in this novel Mr. Haruf reinforces the notion that you never know the whole story until you hear both sides of it, and even then you still don’t fully know it. In ways subtle and dramatic, BENEDICTION reminds the reader of this truth.
At one point a character says he is hoping to recapture “The precious ordinary.”
This is what Haruf does in his books, and it is why he is great and why he will endure. I live the ordinary, and so do you.
Here are some moments in the text that reflect the precious ordinary that have stuck with me:
- There is an instance where a wife gives her dying husband a sponge bath. Having recently seen death up close, this beautiful moment rang painfully true.
- In chapter 17 we get a depiction of a small town 4th of July. It is unassuming, human, and lovely, and the writing in this chapter is simplistically stunning.
- There is a quick and touching cameo mention of the McPheron brothers and their ranch in this text. It is powerful because the McPherons (who loomed large in the first two books of this trilogy) are absent from this one, and in the same small town to those who did not really know them, their lives were not that consequential. But they were consequential to me. I loved them. And that is life. We make a ripple in our sphere of influence, but in the bigger picture…not even noticed.
Some quotes from the text:
• “I don’t want you to go yet, she said.”
• “The air was cool and smelled fresh of the country in the evening out on the high plains.”
• “If you have love you can live in this world in a true way and if you love each other you can see past everything and accept what you don’t understand and forgive what you don’t know or you don’t like.”
• “You’re dreaming backward.”
• “….remembering everything, taking all of his years into account.”
• “It’s how people are when somebody’s dying. They want to forget the past. Forgive things.”
• “Because he’s old and dying doesn’t mean he knows anything.”
• “I’m getting along the best I can.”
• “All life is moving through some kind of unhappiness, isn’t it.”
• “I missed a lot of things. I could have done better.”
• “You’ve been everything to me.”
• “People like her make me real tired.”
Kent Haruf published 6 novels. I have now read 4 of them. I am very hesitant to read the last two. After that, there are no more. The PLAINSONG trilogy are among the best reads I have encountered in my time on earth. Stunning, simple, satisfying. Like Thornton Wilder’s brilliant OUR TOWN, they celebrate the real things. The small things. The very precious things. These words form BENEDICTION are about as good as any others I could say to conclude this review and this journey with the natives of Holt, Colorado.
“I just wanted to look at this place one last time. For sentimental reasons, I suppose. We can go now.”
While still in the first chapter of this book I had to put it down and step away for a bit. Mr. Haruf was terrifyingly good in his ability to capture the emotional truth of a moment. By page 13 I had had tears in my eyes numerous times already. I don’t often cry while reading, but Haruf moves me like few other writers that I have encountered. The reason for the tears, which happened often while reading BENEDICTION, is because it captures with heartbreaking accuracy moments that we have all lived.
One of the things I most loved about this book is that in this novel Mr. Haruf reinforces the notion that you never know the whole story until you hear both sides of it, and even then you still don’t fully know it. In ways subtle and dramatic, BENEDICTION reminds the reader of this truth.
At one point a character says he is hoping to recapture “The precious ordinary.”
This is what Haruf does in his books, and it is why he is great and why he will endure. I live the ordinary, and so do you.
Here are some moments in the text that reflect the precious ordinary that have stuck with me:
- There is an instance where a wife gives her dying husband a sponge bath. Having recently seen death up close, this beautiful moment rang painfully true.
- In chapter 17 we get a depiction of a small town 4th of July. It is unassuming, human, and lovely, and the writing in this chapter is simplistically stunning.
- There is a quick and touching cameo mention of the McPheron brothers and their ranch in this text. It is powerful because the McPherons (who loomed large in the first two books of this trilogy) are absent from this one, and in the same small town to those who did not really know them, their lives were not that consequential. But they were consequential to me. I loved them. And that is life. We make a ripple in our sphere of influence, but in the bigger picture…not even noticed.
Some quotes from the text:
• “I don’t want you to go yet, she said.”
• “The air was cool and smelled fresh of the country in the evening out on the high plains.”
• “If you have love you can live in this world in a true way and if you love each other you can see past everything and accept what you don’t understand and forgive what you don’t know or you don’t like.”
• “You’re dreaming backward.”
• “….remembering everything, taking all of his years into account.”
• “It’s how people are when somebody’s dying. They want to forget the past. Forgive things.”
• “Because he’s old and dying doesn’t mean he knows anything.”
• “I’m getting along the best I can.”
• “All life is moving through some kind of unhappiness, isn’t it.”
• “I missed a lot of things. I could have done better.”
• “You’ve been everything to me.”
• “People like her make me real tired.”
Kent Haruf published 6 novels. I have now read 4 of them. I am very hesitant to read the last two. After that, there are no more. The PLAINSONG trilogy are among the best reads I have encountered in my time on earth. Stunning, simple, satisfying. Like Thornton Wilder’s brilliant OUR TOWN, they celebrate the real things. The small things. The very precious things. These words form BENEDICTION are about as good as any others I could say to conclude this review and this journey with the natives of Holt, Colorado.
“I just wanted to look at this place one last time. For sentimental reasons, I suppose. We can go now.”
June 2, 2017
Benediction is a book I experienced as tender, gentle, and like a deeply moving ballad resonating in the key of life.
The lives depicted are ordinary lives expressed with extraordinary compassion and understanding in how people think, feel, and experience their shared existence.
The key families in the story, whose lives intertwine and overlap, include a family with one member in the last stages of life, a family with a grandmother doing her best to care for her orphaned young grand-daughter, a family where the father, a preacher, is ostracized by many townspeople and alienated from his wife and son, and another family of two older women – a mother and daughter – who have a solid enough relationship that they can reach out and do everything possible to support others in the town.
The interplay between all of these characters is so real and immediate and the descriptions of the town and countryside surrounding them so pure that I felt I was there and experiencing it all with them.
Kent Haruf’s writing is like a beautifully crafted piece of music – all our senses are sharpened and enlivened by it in a way that evokes not only deeper thoughts and feelings, but also a glorious sense of what it means to be part of the human condition.
The lives depicted are ordinary lives expressed with extraordinary compassion and understanding in how people think, feel, and experience their shared existence.
The key families in the story, whose lives intertwine and overlap, include a family with one member in the last stages of life, a family with a grandmother doing her best to care for her orphaned young grand-daughter, a family where the father, a preacher, is ostracized by many townspeople and alienated from his wife and son, and another family of two older women – a mother and daughter – who have a solid enough relationship that they can reach out and do everything possible to support others in the town.
The interplay between all of these characters is so real and immediate and the descriptions of the town and countryside surrounding them so pure that I felt I was there and experiencing it all with them.
Kent Haruf’s writing is like a beautifully crafted piece of music – all our senses are sharpened and enlivened by it in a way that evokes not only deeper thoughts and feelings, but also a glorious sense of what it means to be part of the human condition.
December 17, 2019
I believe that Kent Haruf is such a beloved author because he makes us see "the precious ordinary". There is such beauty in ordinary lives and everyday conversation and all the little minutia that lives are formed of, but it seems so commonplace that we forget to look. Beauty in the slant of light coming through the window at a certain time of day, or a sudden, brief rainstorm to clear the air and cool things off. Beauty in a job well done, and kind neighbors in a small town, and people making the best of what life has handed them.
Not everyone is the same though, there are outliers in families and communities that just don't fit in, and there's beauty there too, but sometimes we're too threatened to see it. Kent Haruf saw it though, and he showed it to us in the simplest prose imaginable. I will remember these characters for a long, long time, and I will re-read his books because they are happy places to spend some time, even when sadness is involved.
The death of Dad Lewis has to be one of the most beautiful death scenes ever written, and I can only hope that Haruf's own death a year after this was published was as peaceful and meaningful.
Not everyone is the same though, there are outliers in families and communities that just don't fit in, and there's beauty there too, but sometimes we're too threatened to see it. Kent Haruf saw it though, and he showed it to us in the simplest prose imaginable. I will remember these characters for a long, long time, and I will re-read his books because they are happy places to spend some time, even when sadness is involved.
The death of Dad Lewis has to be one of the most beautiful death scenes ever written, and I can only hope that Haruf's own death a year after this was published was as peaceful and meaningful.
May 18, 2023
A couple of weeks ago I came across an article by a very well known author on social media where he basically wrote a list of the reasons why he thinks readers of literary fiction (book snobs as he calls them) are missing out by not reading science fiction and fantasy. The whole thing went straight over my head, but at least made me think, not only about the reasons why I seem not to be able to fall in love with those two genres, but also about the reasons why I am completely obsessed with literary fiction.
So here’s the thing about my obsession: I believe nothing can be more challenging for a writer than having to write accurately about real life - how people behave, what people think and feel about a certain situation, and most important of all (to me), how people talk.
Why would writers who go for genres like fantasy and science fiction need to worry about portraying real life as it is when everything they create is only the result of their imagination? Well, they don’t. They create the rules and the reader only needs to suspend belief and go for it.
On the other hand, authors who write about real life need to pay attention to every single gesture, sound, emotion and word spoken. Their characters need to behave and talk in ways that feel true to the reader. Someone writing a realistic story doesn’t create the rules but has to work around them.
I can’t say I’m in the least interested in reading stories about people living on Mars or fairies doing magic and witches casting spells. What I want is to find more stories like this one - stories that take me deeper into this mess that is the human experience here on Earth.
I don’t care about the very well known author’s list or the fact that he thinks I have no imagination.
I want to feel life on the page.
I want to believe everything about the characters lives.
I want outstanding and true to life dialogue.
I want truth.
And that’s why I think that what the world needs is more writers like Kent Haruf.
So here’s the thing about my obsession: I believe nothing can be more challenging for a writer than having to write accurately about real life - how people behave, what people think and feel about a certain situation, and most important of all (to me), how people talk.
Why would writers who go for genres like fantasy and science fiction need to worry about portraying real life as it is when everything they create is only the result of their imagination? Well, they don’t. They create the rules and the reader only needs to suspend belief and go for it.
On the other hand, authors who write about real life need to pay attention to every single gesture, sound, emotion and word spoken. Their characters need to behave and talk in ways that feel true to the reader. Someone writing a realistic story doesn’t create the rules but has to work around them.
I can’t say I’m in the least interested in reading stories about people living on Mars or fairies doing magic and witches casting spells. What I want is to find more stories like this one - stories that take me deeper into this mess that is the human experience here on Earth.
I don’t care about the very well known author’s list or the fact that he thinks I have no imagination.
I want to feel life on the page.
I want to believe everything about the characters lives.
I want outstanding and true to life dialogue.
I want truth.
And that’s why I think that what the world needs is more writers like Kent Haruf.
September 22, 2020
Benediction - the third book in the Plainsong trilogy by the masterful Kent Haruf is my favourite. That’s saying something because Plainsong and Eventide were magnificent stories. They both involved my favourite McPheron brothers – two men I’d like to know.
Benediction is set in Holt County, but it doesn’t follow on directly from the previous books, we are introduced to new characters. Importantly, the mood and nicely paced writing is still there.
The author takes us on a journey of personal regret, mistakes, broken relationships, religious hypocrisy, acceptance, true love and death.
That’s what really got to me in this book. Death and the process of dying.
The story revolves around “Dad”. He is dying of cancer and Haruf keeps coming back to him as he slowly declines towards his inevitable end. The scenes where he lies there staring out of a window, looking at his yard and being tended to by his wife and daughter are some of the most touching I have read, particularly towards the end. The way his wife Mary lies next to him as his breath rattles and becomes infrequent was so unbelievably touching. Real love. Even if their relationship wasn’t so perfect (what relationship is?), all was forgiven, “Dad” believed in Mary completely, loved her totally. Mary, lay next to him, holding his hand, caressing his face, whispering into his ear. *sob*.
The last quarter of this book had me in tears. Not necessarily because it was sad, that’s not it, it was because it was so touching. In some ways his passing was perfect.
The relationship between parents and children is explored brilliantly by Haruf. Acceptance, unconditional love, the bumps in the road – they were all there. This book covered so much it seemed like a 1200-page epic, however, Haruf’s storytelling was accomplished with his usual economy of words, and simple but so impactful prose.
It seems (and I hope this makes sense), when Haruf is describing a scene, he doesn’t attempt to describe everything, he doesn’t try and paint a complete picture, describe every element – he only appears to point out what a participant might see. Like a tree, or a plate – and with that he just nails it.
The hypocrisy of religion is wonderfully portrayed. The hapless Pastor Lyle’s story was one of the highlights for me. I really felt for this poor bastard, he wasn’t a perfect man – but I couldn’t fault his interpretation of the Bible, made sense to me, not to others apparently.
The most powerful thread of this story involves Dad wondering how death would take him away, we all experience death of course, but many of us have lots of time to ponder how this will happen. During a slow decline all you have is time, time to reflect on your life and time to think about what’s to come. It takes one’s breath away.
A particularly moving scene involved Dad holding the smooth little face of young Alice from next door:
He raised both hands again and held her face in his old loose-skinned hands and shut his eyes. She watched him; she could see his eyes moving beneath his clothes eyelids. His hands felt papery and cold on her face
One example of Haruf’s simple prose is:
……and Lorraine had brought him a cup of black coffee and some cookies on a little china plate.
For some reason “little china plate” just struck me as something very simple, but to me it nailed the entire scene – without using unnecessary words.
I love this Author.
5 of the best stars
Benediction is set in Holt County, but it doesn’t follow on directly from the previous books, we are introduced to new characters. Importantly, the mood and nicely paced writing is still there.
The author takes us on a journey of personal regret, mistakes, broken relationships, religious hypocrisy, acceptance, true love and death.
That’s what really got to me in this book. Death and the process of dying.
The story revolves around “Dad”. He is dying of cancer and Haruf keeps coming back to him as he slowly declines towards his inevitable end. The scenes where he lies there staring out of a window, looking at his yard and being tended to by his wife and daughter are some of the most touching I have read, particularly towards the end. The way his wife Mary lies next to him as his breath rattles and becomes infrequent was so unbelievably touching. Real love. Even if their relationship wasn’t so perfect (what relationship is?), all was forgiven, “Dad” believed in Mary completely, loved her totally. Mary, lay next to him, holding his hand, caressing his face, whispering into his ear. *sob*.
The last quarter of this book had me in tears. Not necessarily because it was sad, that’s not it, it was because it was so touching. In some ways his passing was perfect.
The relationship between parents and children is explored brilliantly by Haruf. Acceptance, unconditional love, the bumps in the road – they were all there. This book covered so much it seemed like a 1200-page epic, however, Haruf’s storytelling was accomplished with his usual economy of words, and simple but so impactful prose.
It seems (and I hope this makes sense), when Haruf is describing a scene, he doesn’t attempt to describe everything, he doesn’t try and paint a complete picture, describe every element – he only appears to point out what a participant might see. Like a tree, or a plate – and with that he just nails it.
The hypocrisy of religion is wonderfully portrayed. The hapless Pastor Lyle’s story was one of the highlights for me. I really felt for this poor bastard, he wasn’t a perfect man – but I couldn’t fault his interpretation of the Bible, made sense to me, not to others apparently.
The most powerful thread of this story involves Dad wondering how death would take him away, we all experience death of course, but many of us have lots of time to ponder how this will happen. During a slow decline all you have is time, time to reflect on your life and time to think about what’s to come. It takes one’s breath away.
A particularly moving scene involved Dad holding the smooth little face of young Alice from next door:
He raised both hands again and held her face in his old loose-skinned hands and shut his eyes. She watched him; she could see his eyes moving beneath his clothes eyelids. His hands felt papery and cold on her face
One example of Haruf’s simple prose is:
……and Lorraine had brought him a cup of black coffee and some cookies on a little china plate.
For some reason “little china plate” just struck me as something very simple, but to me it nailed the entire scene – without using unnecessary words.
I love this Author.
5 of the best stars
February 21, 2021
This final book in the series — with new characters— is the darkest in the trilogy.
Yet... there are a few very funny scenes. One in particular involving a naked opportunity is as hilarious as it is sad.
‘Benediction’ is an all-encompassing emotional ride from beginning to end. The story pulled me into the small, intimate world of characters I enjoyed getting to know.
A spiral of tragedies left me reeling.
It’s not a light read, by any means, but a moving and thoughtful one not easy to forget.
Warning ... slight spoiler:
There’s a suicide— that calls for much introspection.
I couldn’t quite let go of it even though it’s not the main theme of the story....
I had a discussion about it with Paul, my husband.
We both looked at the scene together—asking ourselves —what might we have done?
The scene is as haunting and complex as any scene I’ve read.
As ‘Benediction’ completes the trilogy — a dying man [Dad Lewis] reflects on his
life.
We meet Dad’s wife [Mary], his adult daughter [Lorraine], and his estranged son [Frank]—
We meet an orphaned girl [Alice] who is loved and protected... a granddaughter of [Berta May], next door neighbor.
We meet a preacher new to the town [Rob Lyle] who gives a sermon that alienates his family and the congregation.
We meet the preachers son [John Wesley]... with his coming-of-age tale.
We meet [Willa Johnson] a widow and her adult unmarried Daughter [Arlene].
We meet a clerk [Clayton]who worked at the hardware store that Dad Lewis owned. An entire book could be written about Clayton.
We meet Clayton’s wife [Tanya]....in a couple of forceful memorable scenes.
We meet a young couple who wanted to get married [Laurie Wheeler and Ronald Dean].
It’s a sweet moment of love - hope - and gratitude.
Most....
the entire story centers around the life, dying and death of Dad Lewis [late 70’s] and his grieving wife - Mary.....
Heart wrenching, heart endearing reflections — and the process of dying .....a quiet powerful book that I enjoyed equally as much as the first two books in the series.
Kent Haruf was one of the greatest depicters of the human condition. He created
ordinary/ extraordinary characters with depth of genuineness and credibility.
His scenes and descriptions come so alive— it’s as if we’re right there.
This brilliant American author who died in 2014....
wrote all his novels in a fictionist town called Holt, Colorado..... a town that feels so real....
I wouldn’t be surprised if one day Colorado re-names a town ‘Holt’ .... to honor this great author.
5 easy stars from me! Another favorite!
Yet... there are a few very funny scenes. One in particular involving a naked opportunity is as hilarious as it is sad.
‘Benediction’ is an all-encompassing emotional ride from beginning to end. The story pulled me into the small, intimate world of characters I enjoyed getting to know.
A spiral of tragedies left me reeling.
It’s not a light read, by any means, but a moving and thoughtful one not easy to forget.
Warning ... slight spoiler:
There’s a suicide— that calls for much introspection.
I couldn’t quite let go of it even though it’s not the main theme of the story....
I had a discussion about it with Paul, my husband.
We both looked at the scene together—asking ourselves —what might we have done?
The scene is as haunting and complex as any scene I’ve read.
As ‘Benediction’ completes the trilogy — a dying man [Dad Lewis] reflects on his
life.
We meet Dad’s wife [Mary], his adult daughter [Lorraine], and his estranged son [Frank]—
We meet an orphaned girl [Alice] who is loved and protected... a granddaughter of [Berta May], next door neighbor.
We meet a preacher new to the town [Rob Lyle] who gives a sermon that alienates his family and the congregation.
We meet the preachers son [John Wesley]... with his coming-of-age tale.
We meet [Willa Johnson] a widow and her adult unmarried Daughter [Arlene].
We meet a clerk [Clayton]who worked at the hardware store that Dad Lewis owned. An entire book could be written about Clayton.
We meet Clayton’s wife [Tanya]....in a couple of forceful memorable scenes.
We meet a young couple who wanted to get married [Laurie Wheeler and Ronald Dean].
It’s a sweet moment of love - hope - and gratitude.
Most....
the entire story centers around the life, dying and death of Dad Lewis [late 70’s] and his grieving wife - Mary.....
Heart wrenching, heart endearing reflections — and the process of dying .....a quiet powerful book that I enjoyed equally as much as the first two books in the series.
Kent Haruf was one of the greatest depicters of the human condition. He created
ordinary/ extraordinary characters with depth of genuineness and credibility.
His scenes and descriptions come so alive— it’s as if we’re right there.
This brilliant American author who died in 2014....
wrote all his novels in a fictionist town called Holt, Colorado..... a town that feels so real....
I wouldn’t be surprised if one day Colorado re-names a town ‘Holt’ .... to honor this great author.
5 easy stars from me! Another favorite!
April 22, 2018
La guancia del nemico
“Poi si accorse che non poteva disfare il cappio che aveva dietro la testa senza spostare la cassa, la quale al minimo movimento si sarebbe ribaltata. Paralizzato, si mise a piangere, mentre nella stanza diventava buio. Le lacrime tracciavano dei rigagnoli nella fuliggine che aveva in faccia”.
Ambientata nella pianura arida del Colorado, in una provincia sobria e ordinaria, la storia raccontata nel libro assume una credibilità tanto desolata e tradizionale da apparire incorporea e passeggera, come il vento che muove la polvere o la pioggia che bagna la terra di questi paesaggi sconfinati. Haruf riesce a infondere grazia e verità alle vicende quotidiane così come ai momenti irripetibili, con una voce elegante e delicata, che non vuole essere protagonista ma testimone sincera e imprevista. C'è un evento centrale nella trama del testo ed è la fine della vita, la morte di un uomo per ciò che significa e comporta in sé e nella vita delle persone che lo amano. Poi ci sono altri episodi, cronache complici e eloquenti dell'interrogativo esistenziale che si infrange sul limite della narrazione: un uomo che nel passato si è tolto la vita, un adulterio, un ragazzo che pensa di uccidersi, un uomo di chiesa che si trova fuori gioco. Questo romanzo assomiglia alla vita e descrive il dolore e la sua inattendibilità insieme al senso di perdita: il dolore che si ferma al nostro fianco e quello che si insedia dentro di noi, con un realismo essenziale e semplice, al punto da apparire brutale nella sua familiarità. Vicinanza e affinità che diventano rivelazione, nell'amore senza fine di chi sopravvive, orfani di un tempo malinconico e silenzioso, di un'assenza indispensabile e potente.
“Lo baciò di nuovo sulle labbra screpolate e si sdraiò al suo fianco e rimase in silenzio, fissando nel buio dove la luce del granaio formava sagome scure e ombre e strane figure, e all'improvviso scoppiò a piangere”.
“Poi si accorse che non poteva disfare il cappio che aveva dietro la testa senza spostare la cassa, la quale al minimo movimento si sarebbe ribaltata. Paralizzato, si mise a piangere, mentre nella stanza diventava buio. Le lacrime tracciavano dei rigagnoli nella fuliggine che aveva in faccia”.
Ambientata nella pianura arida del Colorado, in una provincia sobria e ordinaria, la storia raccontata nel libro assume una credibilità tanto desolata e tradizionale da apparire incorporea e passeggera, come il vento che muove la polvere o la pioggia che bagna la terra di questi paesaggi sconfinati. Haruf riesce a infondere grazia e verità alle vicende quotidiane così come ai momenti irripetibili, con una voce elegante e delicata, che non vuole essere protagonista ma testimone sincera e imprevista. C'è un evento centrale nella trama del testo ed è la fine della vita, la morte di un uomo per ciò che significa e comporta in sé e nella vita delle persone che lo amano. Poi ci sono altri episodi, cronache complici e eloquenti dell'interrogativo esistenziale che si infrange sul limite della narrazione: un uomo che nel passato si è tolto la vita, un adulterio, un ragazzo che pensa di uccidersi, un uomo di chiesa che si trova fuori gioco. Questo romanzo assomiglia alla vita e descrive il dolore e la sua inattendibilità insieme al senso di perdita: il dolore che si ferma al nostro fianco e quello che si insedia dentro di noi, con un realismo essenziale e semplice, al punto da apparire brutale nella sua familiarità. Vicinanza e affinità che diventano rivelazione, nell'amore senza fine di chi sopravvive, orfani di un tempo malinconico e silenzioso, di un'assenza indispensabile e potente.
“Lo baciò di nuovo sulle labbra screpolate e si sdraiò al suo fianco e rimase in silenzio, fissando nel buio dove la luce del granaio formava sagome scure e ombre e strane figure, e all'improvviso scoppiò a piangere”.
July 9, 2025
This is the story of a man dying of a natural death, and how family and community rally to support him in his last weeks and days. It’s not entirely the downer you might expect, but rather a series of observations on tender memories, lasting regrets, new beginnings, and accounts settled. Because it’s Kent Haruf at the wheel, the novel glints with hope and humanity on every page, like so many river pebbles along your walk on a sunny summer afternoon. Daily interactions in small town settings ring true — no need to be in Colorado for this. The man on his deathbed was called Dad.
I read this as I buried my own father, because I’m the type.
If someone more competent than Kent Haruf exists out there to dedramatize such a process, I don’t know who that person is. This is once again a beautiful, modest novel that chooses to pick up on the very best of what the human race has to offer; it’s often kindness.
After Plainsong and Eventide, Benediction successfully addresses closure. How fitting is that?
I read this as I buried my own father, because I’m the type.
If someone more competent than Kent Haruf exists out there to dedramatize such a process, I don’t know who that person is. This is once again a beautiful, modest novel that chooses to pick up on the very best of what the human race has to offer; it’s often kindness.
After Plainsong and Eventide, Benediction successfully addresses closure. How fitting is that?
March 10, 2016
This one made for a very satisfying return for me to the fictional rural community of Holt in the high plains of Colorado. As in his other books, we are treated to the stories of ordinary people struggling to make the most of their lives in the face of the unfulfilled dreams or lost people, all rendered in a spare prose and understated but rich dialog. People who try to rectify their past mistakes. And take the time to rejoice at the simple pleasures from the company of family and friends and the rhythms of the seasons.
For the story here a number of lives intersect over the impending death of “Dad” Lewis from cancer while he makes efforts to put his life and hardware business in order. His wife Mary can’t handle it all, and so accepts her daughter Lorraine’s offer to move in to help. The first of many benedictions. The one benediction Dad needs is the acceptance of love from him by his estranged son Frank, so some desperate efforts are made to reconnect with him. The one benediction he feels a special need to complete is for the wife of a man he fired for theft, which had a tough impact.
In the meantime, friendships between the Lewis family and people in their community take on a life of their own. Visits with the neighbor Berta May and her grand-daughter Alice, age 8, brings out the sympathies of many to make life better Alice, who has lost her parents. In this, Lorraine teams up with her mother’s friend Willa and her middle-aged daughter, Arlene, who is a loveless teacher after an unfortunate affair achieved notoriety many years back.
Another family to be graced by Haruf’s omniscient observer is that of the new church pastor, Reverend Lyle. The gossip machine tries to figure out why he lost his church in Denver and was assigned to the boonies. There is a point where he presses in a sermon on the contrast between Christ’s message of love and forgiveness and that evident in American commitment to its wars. There are some moving scenes where the congregation reacts badly, adding to Lyle’s awkward position with a wife and son unhappy with their displacement. Some in Dad Lewis’ circle take a shine to the brave pastor, and some of their forms of their support for him came the closest in the book to moving me to righteous tears.
Yes, Haruf plucks on your heartstrings, but it never feels like a gratuitous emotional wrenching. You end up feeling a better human from reading him, if not a bit wiser and stronger. I feel there are similarities with Marilynne Robinson’s “Gilead” and Wendell Berry’s “Jayber Crow”, notably in how luminous points of reflection transform human connections to a balm for the dark parts of the human condition. There are a lot of great reviews from my Goodreads friends, but the lovely review by Will Byrnes had the most impact on moving me the read this gem.
For the story here a number of lives intersect over the impending death of “Dad” Lewis from cancer while he makes efforts to put his life and hardware business in order. His wife Mary can’t handle it all, and so accepts her daughter Lorraine’s offer to move in to help. The first of many benedictions. The one benediction Dad needs is the acceptance of love from him by his estranged son Frank, so some desperate efforts are made to reconnect with him. The one benediction he feels a special need to complete is for the wife of a man he fired for theft, which had a tough impact.
In the meantime, friendships between the Lewis family and people in their community take on a life of their own. Visits with the neighbor Berta May and her grand-daughter Alice, age 8, brings out the sympathies of many to make life better Alice, who has lost her parents. In this, Lorraine teams up with her mother’s friend Willa and her middle-aged daughter, Arlene, who is a loveless teacher after an unfortunate affair achieved notoriety many years back.
Another family to be graced by Haruf’s omniscient observer is that of the new church pastor, Reverend Lyle. The gossip machine tries to figure out why he lost his church in Denver and was assigned to the boonies. There is a point where he presses in a sermon on the contrast between Christ’s message of love and forgiveness and that evident in American commitment to its wars. There are some moving scenes where the congregation reacts badly, adding to Lyle’s awkward position with a wife and son unhappy with their displacement. Some in Dad Lewis’ circle take a shine to the brave pastor, and some of their forms of their support for him came the closest in the book to moving me to righteous tears.
Yes, Haruf plucks on your heartstrings, but it never feels like a gratuitous emotional wrenching. You end up feeling a better human from reading him, if not a bit wiser and stronger. I feel there are similarities with Marilynne Robinson’s “Gilead” and Wendell Berry’s “Jayber Crow”, notably in how luminous points of reflection transform human connections to a balm for the dark parts of the human condition. There are a lot of great reviews from my Goodreads friends, but the lovely review by Will Byrnes had the most impact on moving me the read this gem.
February 16, 2024
Fifty-five years times six days a week times fifty two, he said.
What does that come to?
It comes to a lifetime.
That’s right. It amounts to a man’s lifetime, Dad said
It’s hardly surprising that returning to the hardscrabble plains of East Colorado feels like a homecoming. Kent Haruf can do that for you. Benediction takes us back to Holt County to follow the final few weeks of Dad Lewis, a not especially interesting old man, whose unremarkable life is coming to an end.
Yet immediately he feels like an old friend. Written with a measured grace, it’s about living and dying. Kent Haruf is a master of finding beauty in the ordinary, or the precious ordinary. What makes it sublime is how much you care for the characters. All of them have suffered loss and yet they are all capable of great acts of kindness. As Dad Lewis reaches his final days, he grapples with the ghosts of his past. The final 20 pages are extraordinary.
Here’s a thing. My sister has been a nurse for many years, working mainly on wards for the elderly. A long time ago she said to me that the greatest honour you will ever be bestowed, is to hold the hand of someone as they take their final breath. To be there with them, she says, can the most important thing you will ever do.
That echoed through my mind as Dad Lewis got to his end, I felt I was in the room with him as he took his final breath. Yet I wasn’t alone, my wonderful friend Megan was with me to witness this incredible moment. This was my first ever buddy read and I couldn’t have shared it with a better friend. Moments like this are rare and beautiful.
Benediction brings closure to the Plainsong Trilogy, but their spiritual intensity will stay with me forever. Without doubt my favourite trilogy.
What does that come to?
It comes to a lifetime.
That’s right. It amounts to a man’s lifetime, Dad said
It’s hardly surprising that returning to the hardscrabble plains of East Colorado feels like a homecoming. Kent Haruf can do that for you. Benediction takes us back to Holt County to follow the final few weeks of Dad Lewis, a not especially interesting old man, whose unremarkable life is coming to an end.
Yet immediately he feels like an old friend. Written with a measured grace, it’s about living and dying. Kent Haruf is a master of finding beauty in the ordinary, or the precious ordinary. What makes it sublime is how much you care for the characters. All of them have suffered loss and yet they are all capable of great acts of kindness. As Dad Lewis reaches his final days, he grapples with the ghosts of his past. The final 20 pages are extraordinary.
Here’s a thing. My sister has been a nurse for many years, working mainly on wards for the elderly. A long time ago she said to me that the greatest honour you will ever be bestowed, is to hold the hand of someone as they take their final breath. To be there with them, she says, can the most important thing you will ever do.
That echoed through my mind as Dad Lewis got to his end, I felt I was in the room with him as he took his final breath. Yet I wasn’t alone, my wonderful friend Megan was with me to witness this incredible moment. This was my first ever buddy read and I couldn’t have shared it with a better friend. Moments like this are rare and beautiful.
Benediction brings closure to the Plainsong Trilogy, but their spiritual intensity will stay with me forever. Without doubt my favourite trilogy.
December 1, 2014
12/01/2014 – Kent Haruf…you chronicled my eastern Colorado roots so brilliantly that I personally knew those folks from “Holt”. May you rest in peace.
Kent Haruf’s writing style is so eloquent, spare and beautiful. As with Plainsong, this novel’s setting is in Holt, an imaginary small town on the High Plains of eastern Colorado. I’m a native of this part of Colorado so I’m very familiar with these folks and their quiet but compelling stories. It starts slowly as Haruf introduces the reader to some of the residents of this small, farming community. The main character is Dad Lewis, an elderly man dying of cancer. It is poignant, sometimes sad and always life-affirming. I loved this book!
Kent Haruf’s writing style is so eloquent, spare and beautiful. As with Plainsong, this novel’s setting is in Holt, an imaginary small town on the High Plains of eastern Colorado. I’m a native of this part of Colorado so I’m very familiar with these folks and their quiet but compelling stories. It starts slowly as Haruf introduces the reader to some of the residents of this small, farming community. The main character is Dad Lewis, an elderly man dying of cancer. It is poignant, sometimes sad and always life-affirming. I loved this book!
January 8, 2020
Benediction - the utterance or bestowing of a blessing at the end of a service, or in this case a life. For we are told immediately that Dad Lewis has cancer and will soon die, and what we get after that revelation is exactly what he gets, a chance to review his life, to see where he went wrong and right; and to see what he leaves behind him, the life that will still move forward when he is gone.
Kent Haruf is such an amazing writer! He can get inside the minds and hearts of his characters in such a way that you are standing beside each of them, living their everyday lives, feeling their struggles. This isn’t a happy book, Dad is dying and there isn’t a single other character who doesn’t have a substantial problem to deal with, including the little girl next door, who is dealing with the loss of her mother and building a new life with her grandmother. But, oddly enough, this is not a wholly depressing book, because there is hope and life and moments of goodness, and the message seems to be that if you can expect woe in life, you can also expect some joy.
One thing is certain, Kent Haruf has seen death up close and personal. There were parts of this that were very difficult to read, not because of what was happening to the characters, but because I kept reliving the loss of my own parents. Death is often a slow, aching process, but with that process also comes an opportunity to come to grips with the life you have lived and to contemplate what life beyond yours will involve for those you leave behind. My own mother worried herself with distributing her sentimental possessions among those she loved, far beyond her own attachment to anything material. I was back in that moment as Dad Lewis opened his cedar box that contained arrowheads, snake rattles, his pocket watch and old silver dollars. I have such a box myself. I understood.
And therein lies the magic that is Haruf. We understand. We feel every emotion, because we have felt them; we see every scene, because we have seen it before; we recognize the mistakes as being unintended hurt, because we have hurt others and been hurt ourselves in just such random ways.
Love is the most important part of life, isn’t it. If you have love you can live in this world in a true way and if you love each other you can see past everything and accept what you don’t understand and forgive what you don’t know or don’t like. Love is all.
Is that not a message we should all take to heart? A major theme that runs through the book is one of forgiveness. Forgiveness for the humanity of other people, for their ignorant and misguided reactions to one another, and for their inability to ask or give forgiveness themselves.
People don’t come to church on Sunday morning to think about new ideas or even the old important ones. They want to hear what they’ve been told before, with only some small variation on what they’ve been hearing all their lives, and they want to go home and eat pot roast and say it was a good service and feel satisfied.
Raise your hand if you can relate to this in any way in your life, not just in the context of church. Insert politics, family dynamics, career choices, and it would read just as true. We are, as humans, mostly guilty of closing our minds more often than we open them. People don’t want to be disturbed. They want assurance. Amen.
When we lost Kent Haruf in 2014, I had only read one of his books. I knew we had lost a good writer, but I had no idea how much we had lost. It’s a little late, sir, but I wish a benediction for you...a blessing at the end.
Kent Haruf is such an amazing writer! He can get inside the minds and hearts of his characters in such a way that you are standing beside each of them, living their everyday lives, feeling their struggles. This isn’t a happy book, Dad is dying and there isn’t a single other character who doesn’t have a substantial problem to deal with, including the little girl next door, who is dealing with the loss of her mother and building a new life with her grandmother. But, oddly enough, this is not a wholly depressing book, because there is hope and life and moments of goodness, and the message seems to be that if you can expect woe in life, you can also expect some joy.
One thing is certain, Kent Haruf has seen death up close and personal. There were parts of this that were very difficult to read, not because of what was happening to the characters, but because I kept reliving the loss of my own parents. Death is often a slow, aching process, but with that process also comes an opportunity to come to grips with the life you have lived and to contemplate what life beyond yours will involve for those you leave behind. My own mother worried herself with distributing her sentimental possessions among those she loved, far beyond her own attachment to anything material. I was back in that moment as Dad Lewis opened his cedar box that contained arrowheads, snake rattles, his pocket watch and old silver dollars. I have such a box myself. I understood.
And therein lies the magic that is Haruf. We understand. We feel every emotion, because we have felt them; we see every scene, because we have seen it before; we recognize the mistakes as being unintended hurt, because we have hurt others and been hurt ourselves in just such random ways.
Love is the most important part of life, isn’t it. If you have love you can live in this world in a true way and if you love each other you can see past everything and accept what you don’t understand and forgive what you don’t know or don’t like. Love is all.
Is that not a message we should all take to heart? A major theme that runs through the book is one of forgiveness. Forgiveness for the humanity of other people, for their ignorant and misguided reactions to one another, and for their inability to ask or give forgiveness themselves.
People don’t come to church on Sunday morning to think about new ideas or even the old important ones. They want to hear what they’ve been told before, with only some small variation on what they’ve been hearing all their lives, and they want to go home and eat pot roast and say it was a good service and feel satisfied.
Raise your hand if you can relate to this in any way in your life, not just in the context of church. Insert politics, family dynamics, career choices, and it would read just as true. We are, as humans, mostly guilty of closing our minds more often than we open them. People don’t want to be disturbed. They want assurance. Amen.
When we lost Kent Haruf in 2014, I had only read one of his books. I knew we had lost a good writer, but I had no idea how much we had lost. It’s a little late, sir, but I wish a benediction for you...a blessing at the end.
January 4, 2016
When I was a teenager and a young woman and the world got me down, I would crack open a Carson McCullers novel and restore my faith in humanity and find myself able to return to our imperfect world.
In between my twenties and my forties, I discovered many amazing novels, but none which quite captured the McCullers effect for me, until I recently found Kent Haruf.
Kent Haruf is a Colorado writer who writes of small town people and their slow, often infuriatingly slow speech, but his writing supercedes any genre. His people belong to the West, and his novels are distinctly so, but within his people you will find all people.
They are lonely people, these children of Kent Haruf, for the Heart is a Lonely Hunter, and even those who once had spouses and children and chaos in their homes are introduced to us here as those who live quiet or isolated lives.
But, don't be confused. This isn't a story of sadness, it's a story of human triumph, of the reward of living lives that need not end in a bang and a whimper.
This is, after all, a benediction.
In between my twenties and my forties, I discovered many amazing novels, but none which quite captured the McCullers effect for me, until I recently found Kent Haruf.
Kent Haruf is a Colorado writer who writes of small town people and their slow, often infuriatingly slow speech, but his writing supercedes any genre. His people belong to the West, and his novels are distinctly so, but within his people you will find all people.
They are lonely people, these children of Kent Haruf, for the Heart is a Lonely Hunter, and even those who once had spouses and children and chaos in their homes are introduced to us here as those who live quiet or isolated lives.
But, don't be confused. This isn't a story of sadness, it's a story of human triumph, of the reward of living lives that need not end in a bang and a whimper.
This is, after all, a benediction.
December 30, 2012
I will read anything this man writes. He can capture our universal humanity way down at a soul level. His eloquent, unobtrusive, sparse prose leads the reader from one carefully drawn scene to the next. He just lays out his story and lets the reader come along for the ride. No words, phrases, or concepts are tortured in this process.
The Lewis family faces the death of their patriarch with as much dignity as they can. Their regrets and accomplishments mix together into an acceptance of a life lived the best way they knew how. There are no reconciliations and mellowing as the end nears, just an attitude of matter of fact acceptance. I just loved this dad for his simplicity and underlying belief that the world owed him nothing. He'd written his story and now it was over.
Pastor Lyle Wesley was another intriguing character. His congregations always turned against him when he veered from the expected doctrine and expressed his heartfelt views. It made me think about how little leeway we generally give those representing specific religious sects. Both the pastor and the father could find no meaningful way to connect to their sons. This disconnect complicates their relationships with the women in their lives.
Mesmerizing book which captures the feel of small town Holt and invites you into a few lives. When it's over, it's hard to let go.
The Lewis family faces the death of their patriarch with as much dignity as they can. Their regrets and accomplishments mix together into an acceptance of a life lived the best way they knew how. There are no reconciliations and mellowing as the end nears, just an attitude of matter of fact acceptance. I just loved this dad for his simplicity and underlying belief that the world owed him nothing. He'd written his story and now it was over.
Pastor Lyle Wesley was another intriguing character. His congregations always turned against him when he veered from the expected doctrine and expressed his heartfelt views. It made me think about how little leeway we generally give those representing specific religious sects. Both the pastor and the father could find no meaningful way to connect to their sons. This disconnect complicates their relationships with the women in their lives.
Mesmerizing book which captures the feel of small town Holt and invites you into a few lives. When it's over, it's hard to let go.
October 21, 2024
What an amazing ending to the Plainsong series!! Kent has wrapped up our time in Holt in spectacular fashion. In this the last installment of the series, we find ourselves once again in downtown Holt Colorado, surrounded by a cast of new characters. We follow "Dad" Lewis as he spirals towards an inevitable and painful death. We stand by his bedside as he ponders his life and the choices he's made, the good, and the bad. Surrounded by loving friends and family. But wait! One is missing......where's Frank?
Benediction, while simple and seemingly slow, forces the reader to ponder one's own life. It is inevitable that we contimplate our own mortality when witnessing someone's demise:
Thoughts i had about my life while reading Benediction. I'm a relatively young man, in the prime of my life, years of living ahead of me.....Sure most of my hair has fallen out, and I gain a few extra pounds every year. There's a family history of cancer, heart disease, mental illness, and alcoholism. I'm an extreme introvert and tend to alienate people who show any kind of friendliness towards me. My two best relationships are a group text I have with a couple of cousins I see once a year, and my 5-year-old son, whom I haven't managed to alienate yet. I think my cat hates me, and why shouldn't he.....Thanks for making me think about all this Kent. I really appreciate the opportunity to pull all these thoughts out of repression.
So if you're not ready to contemplate your own mortality, maybe hold off on this one. If you don't mind mulling over a lifetime of mistakes and regrets, then by all means, read this one.
Thoughts on the Plainsong series as a whole: this was my first foray into Kent's work, and I'm thoroughly impressed. His writing and storytelling are absolutely beautiful. His simple stories are glimpses into small-town life and while mostly plotless and devoid of action, they hold your attention and keep you wanting more.
Benediction, while simple and seemingly slow, forces the reader to ponder one's own life. It is inevitable that we contimplate our own mortality when witnessing someone's demise:
Thoughts i had about my life while reading Benediction. I'm a relatively young man, in the prime of my life, years of living ahead of me.....Sure most of my hair has fallen out, and I gain a few extra pounds every year. There's a family history of cancer, heart disease, mental illness, and alcoholism. I'm an extreme introvert and tend to alienate people who show any kind of friendliness towards me. My two best relationships are a group text I have with a couple of cousins I see once a year, and my 5-year-old son, whom I haven't managed to alienate yet. I think my cat hates me, and why shouldn't he.....Thanks for making me think about all this Kent. I really appreciate the opportunity to pull all these thoughts out of repression.
So if you're not ready to contemplate your own mortality, maybe hold off on this one. If you don't mind mulling over a lifetime of mistakes and regrets, then by all means, read this one.
Thoughts on the Plainsong series as a whole: this was my first foray into Kent's work, and I'm thoroughly impressed. His writing and storytelling are absolutely beautiful. His simple stories are glimpses into small-town life and while mostly plotless and devoid of action, they hold your attention and keep you wanting more.
March 15, 2016
Sitting on a comfortable straight-backed chair, hearing the solitary tick of an ancient kitchen wall clock, in a sun-drenched room in a 150-year-old clapboard house on a dead-end street in a town where everybody’s known you since you were born. That’s what Kent Haruf’s work feels like to me. Spare, haunting, dense with feeling. “The precious ordinary,” he calls it. I love his books. I love his writing. I think I love him.
April 19, 2014
The entire time I was reading this book I could not get a line from Max Ehrmann's Desiderata out of my head: "Speak your truth quietly and clearly, and listen to others; even the dull and ignorant, they too have their story." Benediction is the story of a nobody, really. Just a fellow who labored at the same job for half a century, raised a small semi-dysfunctional family, and then became ill. We all know someone like Dad Lewis: most of us will know several people like him. Entire city blocks are populated by people like Dad. They live out their brief lives in comfortable obscurity and when they go, their departure is barely noticed.
The beauty of Benediction is that Kent Haruf has taken the humdrum and made it interesting. It made me remember the fact that everyone has a story, and it's a pity we don't all have a skilled storyteller to put each of us forth in a sympathetic light.
The beauty of Benediction is that Kent Haruf has taken the humdrum and made it interesting. It made me remember the fact that everyone has a story, and it's a pity we don't all have a skilled storyteller to put each of us forth in a sympathetic light.
August 1, 2025
In the night he lay awake next to Mary in the downstairs bedroom unable to sleep, remembering everything, taking all of his years into account.
Oh my goodness, Mr. Haruf, as I sat in tears reading the last two chapters last night, I was in awe of how easily your beautiful and quietly powerful prose affected me. This was a rather gloomy book with a very difficult topic to deal with – the death of one’s spouse. Dad Lewis, the town’s hardware store owner, learns he is dying and that this will be his last summer. Naturally, he begins a journey of remembrance and a path to redeem the regrets and ghosts in his past that he has been living with. It’s such a tender yet heartbreaking path and we get to witness it as if we are right there in the house caring for his every need, trying to ease his pain in his last months of life, with his wife of 50 years, Mary. We live her day-to-day experiences along with her and then we learn how their adult daughter, Lorraine who has come home to help her mother, deals with grief and impending loss.
As with Haruf’s previous novels, he tells several different stories of the people of Holt, Colorado. Haruf does not use flowery language or insist on a plot to work with. He is best at telling the stories of those ordinary events and people that we all will be able to connect with in some way.
These scenes are like the small (or not so small) dramas that can happen in the life of a small town and its people. The new minister is struggling to connect with his congregation and with his relationship with his teenage son who does not want to be here but wants to go back to Denver where they had to leave. One of my favorite scenes was witnessing three generations of women unburden their self-consciousness to go skinny dipping in a cattle water tank. Oh YES! You have to experience that for yourself! Haruf is brilliant at capturing the naturalness or the everyday moments of life as well as those that are tender and those that are heartbreaking. There is a melancholy that pervades the text and Haruf does not shy away from the hard stuff.
What I’ve seen is the sweet kindness of one person to another. Just time passing on a summer’s night. This ordinary life.
On the bottom was a bed of mud and there were strings of green moss around the edges. She could see black tadpoles squirming away into the mud. She went back to the women.
Lorraine said, Well. Then she just proceeded to take her clothes off and laid them out on a chair. She was white as cream and full breasted with blue veins in her breasts with a swatch of dark hair below her stomach to match the dark hair on her head. They looked at her. She raised her arms. Oh God, what a beautiful day. She stepped toward the tank in the hot manurey dirt and stepped up onto the concrete and leaned over and cupped her hands in the water, her bare back and legs shining in the sun, and doused her face and hair and her breasts and gasped, Oh God! Dear Lord! She lifted one foot onto the rim of the tank and brushed her foot off and stepped over into the water, her body halved, all of her full-fleshed body in the bright sun, and then lowered herself into the water and cried, Goddamn! Oh Jesus! and lay out in the water and disappeared and came up all white and shining. Jesus! Jesus! Then she stood up and turned to them. Come on, all of you, she called. Get in.
Oh my goodness, Mr. Haruf, as I sat in tears reading the last two chapters last night, I was in awe of how easily your beautiful and quietly powerful prose affected me. This was a rather gloomy book with a very difficult topic to deal with – the death of one’s spouse. Dad Lewis, the town’s hardware store owner, learns he is dying and that this will be his last summer. Naturally, he begins a journey of remembrance and a path to redeem the regrets and ghosts in his past that he has been living with. It’s such a tender yet heartbreaking path and we get to witness it as if we are right there in the house caring for his every need, trying to ease his pain in his last months of life, with his wife of 50 years, Mary. We live her day-to-day experiences along with her and then we learn how their adult daughter, Lorraine who has come home to help her mother, deals with grief and impending loss.
As with Haruf’s previous novels, he tells several different stories of the people of Holt, Colorado. Haruf does not use flowery language or insist on a plot to work with. He is best at telling the stories of those ordinary events and people that we all will be able to connect with in some way.
These scenes are like the small (or not so small) dramas that can happen in the life of a small town and its people. The new minister is struggling to connect with his congregation and with his relationship with his teenage son who does not want to be here but wants to go back to Denver where they had to leave. One of my favorite scenes was witnessing three generations of women unburden their self-consciousness to go skinny dipping in a cattle water tank. Oh YES! You have to experience that for yourself! Haruf is brilliant at capturing the naturalness or the everyday moments of life as well as those that are tender and those that are heartbreaking. There is a melancholy that pervades the text and Haruf does not shy away from the hard stuff.
What I’ve seen is the sweet kindness of one person to another. Just time passing on a summer’s night. This ordinary life.
On the bottom was a bed of mud and there were strings of green moss around the edges. She could see black tadpoles squirming away into the mud. She went back to the women.
Lorraine said, Well. Then she just proceeded to take her clothes off and laid them out on a chair. She was white as cream and full breasted with blue veins in her breasts with a swatch of dark hair below her stomach to match the dark hair on her head. They looked at her. She raised her arms. Oh God, what a beautiful day. She stepped toward the tank in the hot manurey dirt and stepped up onto the concrete and leaned over and cupped her hands in the water, her bare back and legs shining in the sun, and doused her face and hair and her breasts and gasped, Oh God! Dear Lord! She lifted one foot onto the rim of the tank and brushed her foot off and stepped over into the water, her body halved, all of her full-fleshed body in the bright sun, and then lowered herself into the water and cried, Goddamn! Oh Jesus! and lay out in the water and disappeared and came up all white and shining. Jesus! Jesus! Then she stood up and turned to them. Come on, all of you, she called. Get in.
December 6, 2023
Wonderful, just wonderful. Kent Haruf writes simply, but beautifully. All his characters resonate in life, not necessarily all good or all bad, just real. This third volume in the Plainsong series, it was disappointing at first for me as none of the main characters from the first two books were present other than mentioned in passing, but by the end, we know a whole new crop of extraordinary people, all with stories to tell or live, in the town of Holt, Colorado.
I particularly loved the telling of the final days of Dad Lewis and his extraordinary relationship with his wife Mary and daughter Lorraine. I have never before read a death in more detail, it takes it sweet time to come. And Lyle, the preacher from their church who preaches true Christianity to the disdain of the community and makes his relationship with his wife and son impossible. And lovely Alice, a young girl living next door to Dad with her grandmother after her mother dies.
Once again, wonderful, wonderful. Five + glorious stars for me.
I particularly loved the telling of the final days of Dad Lewis and his extraordinary relationship with his wife Mary and daughter Lorraine. I have never before read a death in more detail, it takes it sweet time to come. And Lyle, the preacher from their church who preaches true Christianity to the disdain of the community and makes his relationship with his wife and son impossible. And lovely Alice, a young girl living next door to Dad with her grandmother after her mother dies.
Once again, wonderful, wonderful. Five + glorious stars for me.
January 12, 2020
Rilettura che conferma e amplifica quanto di buono avevo pensato 5 anni fa.
Puro piacere del racconto, equilibrio tra la gestione dei personaggi e la scrittura, a suo modo limpida e spoglia; tra passato e presente.
Lo stile di Haruf ha una grazia e una forza inscalfibile, e mette in successione frasi cristalline con la sordina inserita che ricreano un mondo.
Ambientato in una Holt in cui tutti hanno qualcosa nel proprio passato che li turba, che incrina il presente.
Il riverbero degli Stati Uniti più profondi.
Alti livelli di meraviglia.
[78/100]
/////////////////////
[19.10.2015]
Quattro nuclei familiari.
Storie di perdita, sconfitta e rimpianti che si confondono tra di loro. Tristezza a palate.
C’è quell’atmosfera americana che sembra ritagliata via da un film di Eastwood, tipo Gran Torino.
Kent Haruf ha uno stile non appariscente. Non cerca di commuoverti o straziarti anche se il tema si presterebbe.
All'interno ci sono capitoli che potrebbero avere una vita autonoma.
Il quarto, ad esempio. Due aggiustate e potrebbe finire dritto tra i Nove racconti di Salinger.
A tratti avrei preferito forse una maggiore incisività, meno indolenza. Qualcosa di più affilato.
Ma è un fatto personale. Oggettivamente credo si possa dire che questo è un gran libro. [76/100]
Puro piacere del racconto, equilibrio tra la gestione dei personaggi e la scrittura, a suo modo limpida e spoglia; tra passato e presente.
Lo stile di Haruf ha una grazia e una forza inscalfibile, e mette in successione frasi cristalline con la sordina inserita che ricreano un mondo.
Ambientato in una Holt in cui tutti hanno qualcosa nel proprio passato che li turba, che incrina il presente.
Il riverbero degli Stati Uniti più profondi.
Alti livelli di meraviglia.
[78/100]
/////////////////////
[19.10.2015]
Quattro nuclei familiari.
Storie di perdita, sconfitta e rimpianti che si confondono tra di loro. Tristezza a palate.
C’è quell’atmosfera americana che sembra ritagliata via da un film di Eastwood, tipo Gran Torino.
Kent Haruf ha uno stile non appariscente. Non cerca di commuoverti o straziarti anche se il tema si presterebbe.
All'interno ci sono capitoli che potrebbero avere una vita autonoma.
Il quarto, ad esempio. Due aggiustate e potrebbe finire dritto tra i Nove racconti di Salinger.
A tratti avrei preferito forse una maggiore incisività, meno indolenza. Qualcosa di più affilato.
Ma è un fatto personale. Oggettivamente credo si possa dire che questo è un gran libro. [76/100]
January 3, 2016
Another absorbing read. Such a deceptively simple story, filled with meaning and love. I will miss never having another Kent Haruf book to read.
July 6, 2018
Quando finisco di leggere un romanzo come questo faccio sempre molta fatica a sedermi e scrivere un commento su come è stato: sia per endemica pigrizia (scrivere è comunque molto più faticoso che leggere) sia perchè in effetti materiale da lasciar decantare un po' per rifletterci ne abbiamo più che abbastanza.
Nel caso di "Benedizione" di kent Haruf credo che sia stata una fortuna, perchè a caldo, appena chiusa l'ultima pagina, il libro non mi era piaciuto, sicuramente molto meno che "canto della pianura" (che è nei tempi della narrazione il primo libro della trilogia che deve essere letto). Il problema è che mi era sembrata una storia, per così dire, squilibrata. La pesantezza di un vivere strozzato da regole tanto dure quanto poco sentite, la paradossale mancanza di sogni e di opportunità in mondo piccolo circondato da confini troppo vasti, sono esposte quasi con compiacimento, senza che siano comunque temperate da quegli slanci di umanità che in "canto della pianura" erano invece presenti. Lo stesso protagonista, raffigurato nel lungo e doloroso percorso verso la morte dettato dal tumore neoplastico, sembra indicare che questa volta Haruf non è disposto a fare sconti a costo di scrivere un libro amaro, acerbo, poco credibile.
Poi man mano che passavano i giorni tornando a rifletterci sopra, ho rivalutato questa storia: con grande lucidità emerge da queste pagine quelle che sono le caratteristiche dell' America, che ritroviamo in opere ben più famose come "pastorale americana" di Philip Roth, ma esposte forse con più chiarezza. Dovendo fare i conti con una morte annunciata, Dad Lewis ripercorre tutta la sua vita nei suoi episodi più cruciali: la rottura e l'abbandono con il figlio omosessuale, il licenziamento del fedele commesso macchiatosi del paccato veniale di sottrarre cifre dalla cassa ed in seguito suicidatosi, i burrascosi rapporti con la figlia del quale non accetta il compagno...
Quello che viene in mente è che ogni volta questo vecchio americano rispettabile ed onorato è stato giusto, ma mai umano.
Giusto e mai umano come tutti i cittadini di Holt, che non riescono ad accettare e cacciano via in malo modo il nuovo pastore, reo di riproporre in tutta la sua scndalosa radicalità il messaggio cristiano originario.
Il vero problema dell'America del Novecento è una soffocante cortezza di vedute. tante volte commentando libri sempre diversi mi è capitato di affermare che l'identità di una persona è definita anche e soprattutto dai NO che riesce ad imporsi. Non può essere tutto lecito, altrimenti niente ha valore e si cade nel nichilismo. tra le pagine di Benedizione si cade nella situazione opposta: l'irrinunciabile rispettabilità della provincia americana impone troppi NO; troppi vincoli, troppi finti imperativi morali. Diventa impossibile realizzare la propria personalità rispettandoli tutti, soprattutto diventa impossibile stringere relazioni umane rimanendo giusti agli occhi della società. Era giusto licenziare il giovane commesso reo di aver rubato, pur sapendo che questo lo avrebbe portato alla rovina? Certo, ma forse sarebbe stato meglio perdonarlo. Era giusto arrivare alla rottura con il proprio figlio rifiutandosi persino di provare ad accettare la sua omosessualità? In un mondo pervaso da un bieco machsmo e da un Cristianesimo ipocrita senza dubbio, ma a che prezzo?
Questo sembra essere il significato del Cristianesimo protestante, che sostiene una nazione che di cristiano non ha assolutamente nulla. Gli americani non stanno vivendo una fede. Gli americani vogliono essere rassicurati: rassicurati che la pesantissima cappa di doveri e tradizioni che i sono tirati addosso sia qualcosa di giusto, disegni una vita che sia quella che debba essere vissuta, poco importa che in realtà sia una pesantissima catena.
E' il messaggio che la lenta e consapevole agonia di Dad Lewis mi lascia. Bisogna stare attenti a non arrivare a decidere che tutto sia lecito, perchè senza imperativi morali non si costruisce un'identità; ma bisogna anche stare attenti ad accettare (ancor meno ad imporre ai nostri cari) dei NO che non siano i nostri, che ci costringano a piegare il nostro essere noi stessi a clichet di uomini che di umano hanno solo il simulacro. Ogni persona definisce il proprio essere con le proprie aspirazioni e la propria morale, ma ha anche il compito di contribuire a costruire una comunità in cui ogni persona sia libera di fare altrettanto.
Nel caso di "Benedizione" di kent Haruf credo che sia stata una fortuna, perchè a caldo, appena chiusa l'ultima pagina, il libro non mi era piaciuto, sicuramente molto meno che "canto della pianura" (che è nei tempi della narrazione il primo libro della trilogia che deve essere letto). Il problema è che mi era sembrata una storia, per così dire, squilibrata. La pesantezza di un vivere strozzato da regole tanto dure quanto poco sentite, la paradossale mancanza di sogni e di opportunità in mondo piccolo circondato da confini troppo vasti, sono esposte quasi con compiacimento, senza che siano comunque temperate da quegli slanci di umanità che in "canto della pianura" erano invece presenti. Lo stesso protagonista, raffigurato nel lungo e doloroso percorso verso la morte dettato dal tumore neoplastico, sembra indicare che questa volta Haruf non è disposto a fare sconti a costo di scrivere un libro amaro, acerbo, poco credibile.
Poi man mano che passavano i giorni tornando a rifletterci sopra, ho rivalutato questa storia: con grande lucidità emerge da queste pagine quelle che sono le caratteristiche dell' America, che ritroviamo in opere ben più famose come "pastorale americana" di Philip Roth, ma esposte forse con più chiarezza. Dovendo fare i conti con una morte annunciata, Dad Lewis ripercorre tutta la sua vita nei suoi episodi più cruciali: la rottura e l'abbandono con il figlio omosessuale, il licenziamento del fedele commesso macchiatosi del paccato veniale di sottrarre cifre dalla cassa ed in seguito suicidatosi, i burrascosi rapporti con la figlia del quale non accetta il compagno...
Quello che viene in mente è che ogni volta questo vecchio americano rispettabile ed onorato è stato giusto, ma mai umano.
Giusto e mai umano come tutti i cittadini di Holt, che non riescono ad accettare e cacciano via in malo modo il nuovo pastore, reo di riproporre in tutta la sua scndalosa radicalità il messaggio cristiano originario.
Il vero problema dell'America del Novecento è una soffocante cortezza di vedute. tante volte commentando libri sempre diversi mi è capitato di affermare che l'identità di una persona è definita anche e soprattutto dai NO che riesce ad imporsi. Non può essere tutto lecito, altrimenti niente ha valore e si cade nel nichilismo. tra le pagine di Benedizione si cade nella situazione opposta: l'irrinunciabile rispettabilità della provincia americana impone troppi NO; troppi vincoli, troppi finti imperativi morali. Diventa impossibile realizzare la propria personalità rispettandoli tutti, soprattutto diventa impossibile stringere relazioni umane rimanendo giusti agli occhi della società. Era giusto licenziare il giovane commesso reo di aver rubato, pur sapendo che questo lo avrebbe portato alla rovina? Certo, ma forse sarebbe stato meglio perdonarlo. Era giusto arrivare alla rottura con il proprio figlio rifiutandosi persino di provare ad accettare la sua omosessualità? In un mondo pervaso da un bieco machsmo e da un Cristianesimo ipocrita senza dubbio, ma a che prezzo?
Questo sembra essere il significato del Cristianesimo protestante, che sostiene una nazione che di cristiano non ha assolutamente nulla. Gli americani non stanno vivendo una fede. Gli americani vogliono essere rassicurati: rassicurati che la pesantissima cappa di doveri e tradizioni che i sono tirati addosso sia qualcosa di giusto, disegni una vita che sia quella che debba essere vissuta, poco importa che in realtà sia una pesantissima catena.
E' il messaggio che la lenta e consapevole agonia di Dad Lewis mi lascia. Bisogna stare attenti a non arrivare a decidere che tutto sia lecito, perchè senza imperativi morali non si costruisce un'identità; ma bisogna anche stare attenti ad accettare (ancor meno ad imporre ai nostri cari) dei NO che non siano i nostri, che ci costringano a piegare il nostro essere noi stessi a clichet di uomini che di umano hanno solo il simulacro. Ogni persona definisce il proprio essere con le proprie aspirazioni e la propria morale, ma ha anche il compito di contribuire a costruire una comunità in cui ogni persona sia libera di fare altrettanto.
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